5 Second Countdown
by Poisoned Scarlet
Summary: "Skill means nothing against those who are willing to tear you apart with their bare hands" - Winry Rockbell becomes a Prisoner of War after taking her grandmothers place in the second war between Briggs and Drachma.
1. Recruitment

**5 Second Countdown_  
by. _**_Poisoned Scarlet_

**Summary_: _**_Skill means nothing against those who are willing to tear you apart with their bare hands._ Winry Rockbell becomes a Prisoner of War after taking her grandmothers place in the second war between Briggs and Drachma.  
**Rating: **T+ for minor sexual themes, language, gore, rape, controversial topics, etc. I don't think it should be rated M since it's nothing too explicit but it all depends on the reader. If you do not agree then I will promptly up the rating.  
**Genre: **Horror/Hurt/Comfort/Romance.  
**Pairing(s): **Ed/Winry; mentioned others.  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any other references made in this fanfiction except for the characters of my own creation. I make no profit from this work. It's for my own entertainment.

**A/N: **_This story can be considered horror or angst but I decided on horror as its pretty nightmarish. The way I pictured it, it was brutal and I was kind of hesitant to post it up. I decided, in the end, it's something worth sharing no matter how dark it is and, well, I enjoyed writing it so why not?_

_This definitely ignores the end of Fullmetal Alchemist. It's just something I made up in order to procrastinate from writing my Spanish homework a while back. Please don't be too critical as I've never been to a POW camp nor do I plan on doing so..._

_Please review! It's my first time writing such dark themes._

* * *

_01: Recruitment_

* * *

The walls were cracked and crusted with blood. There was very little lighting – almost nothing at all – as the window high above her head drafted in the cold winter air of Drachma.

The floor was slicked with something slimy and thick. She didn't want to think about what she was sitting on as her wrists ached from being cuffed for such an extended period of time.

The smell was terrible – a disgusting mixture of urine, feces, and decay – and her stomach rolled every time she inhaled too deeply.

There were dull aches appearing all over her body the longer she stayed conscious and it took her a few moments to realize this was because of the beating she had received during interrogation.

She glanced at the chains, their sharp clinks making her flinch, and trailed her eyes down the trickle of fresh blood that came from somewhere around her hand...then she saw the brutal cut on the inside of her wrist and noticed, rather absently, it wasn't just a small trickle but a flood of red...

Maybe that was why she felt so light-headed.

She leaned against the rough wall, her head bumping against it and causing an bout of vertigo to strike her head on. She moaned and closed her eyes against the waves of disorientation.

She didn't know how she came to be in such a dire situation in such a short time.

She didn't want to dwell on her utter stupidity or naivete for treading down war-torn lands that she _knew_ were lurking with hidden dangers and palpable animosity.

She simply let life take its course as her deprived body continued to deliver massive migraines and hunger pains.

Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea. Maybe she should have listened to her grandmother.

Maybe she should have called _them _one last time.

In a way, it wasn't her fault for taking on this role as a drafted doctor so early.

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Why not sooner? That was what she had rationalized.

_Why not now, when I actually have a _choice?

It was her arrogance, she blamed, that landed her in such a position. Her arrogance that she thought she could handle it; her arrogance that she thought nothing would happen; her arrogance that caused her to think everything would be okay because she was some trained _doctor _and, subconsciously, made her rely on the fact that no one would hurt a _doctor._

_I was so wrong, _she bemoaned. _I'm so stupid, I'm so stupid..._

The creak of hinges made Winry freeze, a terror like no other clutching her sides. She shakily flashed her eyes to the door, watched as it was thrown open and a shadow loomed before her. The blinding white that came from behind him made her eyes hurt, made her flinch away and start trembling again because she knew what was coming.

Her shackles rang loudly in her ears as she scooted back with her foot, desperate to put as much distance between her and the man.

Her eyes flashed side to side like a caged animal and she only felt panic become fiercer when she noticed her lack-of-cell partner.

She always comforted her and gave her to courage to trudge forward

_Where is she?_

She remembered now.

She had been taken out by a soldier again.

She was being tortured again.

She wished she didn't remember.

_How many hours have passed since? _She couldn't recall the last two hours but she supposed this was a blessing and not a curse. The less she remembered, the better, as the draft of cold air coming from the open door made her ice-damaged fingers ache.

"You ready for round two?" asked the man, a grin in his voice even if she couldn't see it on his face.

"I already told you, I don't know anything!" she cried, shielding her face with her hands. "I don't know anything! Why can't you just believe me?"

The man was silent for a moment and when he spoke it was with that same slick of amusement that had her stomach knotting painfully. "We know more about you than we let on, Winry Rockbell." With the statement hanging in the air, he reached forward and grabbed her wrists roughly. He stuck the key into the cuffs, releasing her from the prisons but ultimately leading her to a fate worse than lying around in a filthy cell.

"Then why do you need to interrogate me if you already know what _I_ know?" Winry shouted, as her vision adjusted to the sudden light.

A slap to her face effectively quieted her.

"Don't question us, you filthy Amestrian!" he spat. "Walk."

She clawed the ground, fear clouding her judgment as she clung onto the new chains on her wrists with bloody fingers. They were so new and shiny.

They looked polished.

How ironic.

"I don't know anything! Please, I DON'T!"

"We'll see," he said simply, grabbing her by the neck and pulling her up on her feet when she slipped on the snow-licked floor. "Now walk, Amestrian. I've got nothing against making your life a living hell if you do not cooperate; I've got orders that allow me to."

"You already have," she hissed, forcing her legs to move despite the sharp juts of pain that appeared in her ribs and chest. She grounded: "What difference would it make? It would be better to...to kill me now!"

He laughed harshly in return.

Was she ready to die?

_I wasn't ready for this but I made it so far, right?_

She could see that dreaded door loom closer and closer with each step.

He was still laughing.

She wished the air would freeze her blood in her veins and effectively shut down everything that kept her alive.

"There are worst things than death, girl," he said finally, after his laughter had subsided.

He threw open the door.

The hole of endless dark was something that petrified Winry

The ground, she knew, with terrible intimacy, was sopping wet with blood and snow and vomit and slops of mud and leaves from outside...

"Please let me go..."

She cried desperately.

He chuckled darkly.

"Answer my questions and we shall see."

The door shut.

She screamed.

* * *

_03 weeks, 05 days, 017 hours, 53 seconds ago_

"Granny, do you think Ed and Al are ever going to come back to Resembool?" Winry asked quietly, staring absently out the window as she sat on the sill on the second story of her home.

Pinako stopped screwing in a bolt into an incomplete automail leg and hummed in thought before actually answering.

"Of course, Winry." She went back to screwing in the bolt. "Those two boys aren't finished yet – they still need a hell of a lot more bumps to cross over before they can finally return home for good."

"But it's been four months since the Promised Day," Winry complained. She rested her chin on her arm, troubled. "He promised he'd be back the instant all of this was over..."

"But it's not over," Pinako reminded, calmly grabbing the artificial limbs cover plate and snapping it in place. She grabbed a few nuts and screws as she continued: "Amestris is in a dire situation, with all the riots and uprisings in the East and North."

"North?" Winry repeated, lifting her head. "What do you mean north?"

"You haven't heard?" Pinako pushed her glasses up, sending her an odd glance. "I thought I told you. Well, there have been war threats coming from Drachma for a while now, ever since their defeat a year ago. Apparently, they want to regain a sense of honor in their name. There've been several rumors saying Briggs is in a bad situation and won't be able to hold up against them." Pinako shook her head. "Bunch of lies, I'll say. Briggs is especially known for their soldiers and special forces. I personally don't believe all this trash!"

Winry stared at her grandmother for a moment, before looking back out the window. "Well, what if it's true?" she asked, faintly recalling the tour down to the lower chambers of Briggs, where they kept all of their tanks and special equipment. They _had _looked ready to take on anything and everything... but with the coup d'etat they had staged a few months ago, who knew? "Everyone has to run out of resources sometime."

"Perhaps," Pinako conceded, slipping a pipe between her teeth. "But that's the thing about Briggs," she blew out a ring of smoke, "they don't 'run out' of resources."

Winry didn't comment, opting instead to stand and stretch out her arms. "I'm going to go check the mail, granny."

"Alright. I'm expecting a letter from a friend of mine. If you find it, leave it on the kitchen table," Pinako said as Winry walked down the stairs.

"Will do, grams," Winry called back, bouncing down the porch steps and making her way to the mailbox situated in the front of the house. She thumbed through some letters, one in particular catching her eye.

_Whats this?_

Her breath hitched when she really saw it. She fingered the envelope sealed with the Fuhrer's official seal of approval. She looked up to the second floor window, relieved to see no one standing behind it, and tore it open. She quickly leafed through the stack of papers, face paling as she skimmed the words printed below.

They seemed to melt within each other instantly – blur until it was just a splat of black ink against white – and Winry didn't even notice she had dropped the rest of the mail until Den came trotting beside her and sniffed them.

_'...drafted for medical services on official orders of Fuhrer Grumman... must leave within one week of arrival of this letter... obligated unless otherwise stated... will be assigned station upon arrival in Central Head Quarters...'_

"No," she whispered, hands trembling with the news. "No. Not granny." She could feel tears accumulate in her eyes; images of her mother and father's apologetic expressions as they stood and left flashing behind her eyelids. She shuddered in sharp breaths, refusing to believe that another member of her family would be ripped away from her because of a letter.

Because of a war.

She picked up the papers and crumpled them in her palm; crushing them until her hands ached from the pressure. She frantically grabbed the last sheet of the stack and read until her eyes went scratchy from not blinking.

One sentence stood out from the rest:

'_If disabled or invalid, you are entitled for discharge upon approval from a certified State Military Recruiting officer...'_

Winry bit her bottom lip, the sick and frightened feelings brewing in her stomach beginning to fade as she rationalized that perhaps she could take her grandmother's place. She had earned her degree as a professional automail surgeon and medical doctor when she had turned seventeen; after graduating from Garfiel's apprenticeship and taking the final exam in Central University.

She was young, perhaps many were skeptical of her skills on the medical table, but Winry was confident she could work under pressure on the battlefield. Her thoughts drifted to her mother and father; to how they had persevered to help both their own and the enemy. Though their fate had been horrible – death by the very people they had been trying to save – Winry was sure that she would not let that happen to her because even though the concept of war and death scared her, she would endure the fear in order to help.

Edward had once told her her hands were not for killing people but for saving them.

As she stared at her palms, the clammy, shaky, hands that gripped the paper so tightly her nails tore holes through them, she steeled herself for what was to come.

That night Winry couldn't sleep, her grandmothers hoarse shouts ringing in her ears.

But it wasn't like her grandmother had any _real _control over her actions.

Not in this situation.

Never again if history decided to repeat itself.

* * *

_02 weeks, 05 days, 015 hours, 12 seconds ago_

"You wish to take your grandmothers place?" A recruitment officer asked, stacking up some papers as Winry squirmed under the mans hard gaze.

"Yes," Winry replied. "You see, she's very old – almost sixty now, actually – but I'm fit enough to take her place."

"I see. You have all of your qualifications?" he asked, frowning when he saw her age. He flipped through more papers idly. "You're seventeen..."

"I'm going to be eighteen in a few weeks," Winry pipped hopefully. "Besides, there isn't anyone else in my family that can take my place. My mother and father were both doctors but they... passed away in the Ishvalan War. And I refuse to let my grandmother participate in _this_ war... so the only choice is me."

"Or we may simply discard your grandmother from recruitment due to old age," the man offered, leaning back in his chair. "You are not obligated to participate. You aren't of age yet."

"But I will be eventually, right?" Winry fired back, clenching her fists. "The instant I turn eighteen I'll be drafted for medical assistance so I might as well take care of it right now!"

The man hummed in thought. "When shall you become of age?"

"Two months from today, on the thirtieth," Winry responded, blowing out a breath of dejection.

"I see," the man leaned forward, smiling conspiratorially. "You're right about one thing: you'll be drafted for war the instant you turn eighteen as a result of lack of medical personnel on the field. In fact, you might just qualify right now, if I allow it. I can pull a few strings here and there..."

Winry swallowed, muscles tense as the man leaned in even further. His eyes promised something dark and terrifying, an implication that had her heart hammering in her rib cage.

"Do you wish to participate?"

"Do I even have a choice?" Winry rebutted, faintly. She balled her hands in an attempt to keep them still.

"You do, for now." His smile was almost feral, as if he took joy in inducing fear in her. "Like you said before, you might as well join now while you _have_ the choice, right?"

"Y-yeah..."

"Alright then." He leaned back abruptly and pulled out some sheets, signed his signature on a few lines before asking her to do the same. He then produced an ink pad from his drawer and stamped an approval on the papers, shifting them into place and stacking them neatly in the growing pile beside him.

He gave her a copy which she crumpled in her hand. "All done. You shall be set for dispatch in exactly five days starting tomorrow. Pack up your stuff, leave behind any valuables." He eyed her pierced ears. "I suggest removing any offending material such as jewelry. I also suggest leaving behind no regrets. Take care of everything now before you leave," he instructed sharply. "I don't usually tell people this but you're still a kid. You've got a whole life ahead of you... and you're already throwing it away."

"I'm not throwing my life away!" Winry snapped, hurt by his words. "I don't have a choice! This was going to happen sooner or later and I rather take it now tha-than later..."

"It's still sad," he sighed, voice woeful, "having to see someone so young _die_..."

"Why would you even say that?" Winry croaked, narrowing her watery eyes. "Don't you have any faith in me? What makes you so sure I won't come back alive?"

He smiled sadly, the first real emotion she had seen since she had arrived. "I have seen many faces come in and out of this office." He gave his pen a sharp tap on the desk. "And I have only seen two of every five I approve come back to me alive."

Silence.

Winry gazed at his grave expression, the eyes that spoke of truth: the pain, the suffering, the terror and grueling nature of what she was about witness and participate in.

She set her jaw, steeled her nerves, and stood, gazing directly into his war-scarred eyes."Well, I'm going to make it! I know I am. I'll make sure I make it." She swallowed thickly and pushed the chair in. "I promise I'll make it..."

A smile ghosted his face. "I really hope so, kid."

As she left, his cold voice rooted her in place; made the cold she had fended off thus far wrap around her heart and freeze it with its burn.

"And remember, if you do survive this war know that it was on pure luck alone. Skill means nothing against those who are willing to rip you apart with their bare hands if they need to."

She had a nervous breakdown when she reached her hotel room.


	2. Hostage

**5 Second Countdown_  
by. _**_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_02: Hostage_

* * *

_02 weeks, 01 day, 012 hours, 59 seconds ago_

She tried to contact Alphonse by using public telephone lines but they refused to pass her through. They stated she needed to wait in order for her call to be passed or, usually, that they couldn't allow regular civilians to contact active military officers.

Even though he technically _wasn't _in the military – not from what she'd heard – they still wouldn't pass her calls through and it annoyed her for better part of the day when it happened.

The same happened with Ed though she had only tried three times to call him. She did not want to deal with his explosive, over-protective, nature because she knew that the instant he said "you're not going" she would submit to the fear inside her and not join the armed forces.

Alphonse was easier to deal with: he would understand, no matter how much he would try and convince her not to go. He'd also help her cope with the fear and anxiety wrecking havoc in her body.

He could also keep secrets.

Edward would shout it out to anyone within a 1-mile radius.

Needless to say, Al was her favourite in this case.

She put the phone down and sighed, kicking her feet back and forth. She sunk into her chair, the phone was tempting her again. She looked away, to her bed, and quickly flashed her eyes to the floor when she caught sight of _that _offending piece of clothing...

She had been handed her medical uniform a few hours after recruitment. The pants were blue and it came with the standard white gloves, a simple, medic-ranked, blue military coat along with a brand new set of boots. With her attire came an optional plain white coat with her last-name sewed nicely on her right breast.

It was mocking to look at so she tried to avoid contact with it as much as possible.

It was the coat, however, that compelled her to call her grandmother once and for all.

She had left angry and hurt and didn't say goodbye...she just pulled an Ed, to her horror, and waved as she walked away.

_At least... _she thought, as she waited for her grandmother to pick up. _It's the least I can do...call her and say goodbye..._

She had rented out a simple lodging close by HQ. It was the same building Ed and Al would usually rent whenever they were in Central during their quest. It felt nostalgic, something which killed her at night because she knew she would not be able to sleep in such luxuries for a long, long time.

"Granny? It's Winry..."

The very next day she was due to leave to North City and would be appointed to one of the three hospitals in the city for a few hours for orientation. Then she would head out to the closest hospital to the battle field to heal wounded soldiers, which was technically a mile or so away from the great Briggs wall. And from the news she had heard, Briggs was having a difficult time subduing Drachmian forces as their low numbers from the coup d'etat had them in a tight wedge.

The new soldiers never fully learned the way of Briggs and Eastern soldiers weren't used to the harsh climate, so they were vulnerable to many of the elite soldiers Drachma never failed to dispatch when the moment was right.

There were also rumors that enemy had infiltrated North City under civilian guises...

"I...just called to, um, say g-good bye granny," Winry whispered, listening to her grandmother's voice reprimand harshly "this isn't goodbye, you idiot girl!" when they both knew with sickening clarity that she just might not make it back from where she was going.

She just might not survive the frigid, unforgiving, land which was the North.

_Survival of the fittest._

Did she have the strength to survive in a stone-cold, barren, landscape?

"_Those who show mercy shall not survive the harshness of Briggs."_

She tried not to think about.

She smiled a bit, her hands still clutching the phone as she placed it back on the receiver.

She had been telling herself that a lot, hadn't she?

_Just try not to think about it..._

* * *

_01 week, 01 day, 010 hours, 35 sec__onds ago_

She had rode in a stuffy, state-owned, vehicle with a dozen other rather snobby doctors.

Their equipment had been shipped days previous to their arrival and they had been given strict orders of conduct during their ride to North City by a commanding officer who scared the living out of her with his booming voice.

Arrival had been prompt and unexciting after that.

Orientation had been dull.

Getting to know the staff she would be working with for the next few weeks was a bit interesting, even though many didn't seem to like her. Some said she was too young to be working in such a dangerous place and others stated she didn't have enough experience to take the stress of the job.

Winry ignored them.

She made a few friends that didn't judge her by her age at all. They seemed very surprised and pleased that someone her age had managed such an accomplishment, even though the pain of knowing she would put her skills to the test in such a harsh environment dampened their joy.

Melanie had been one of them.

She was a middle-aged woman with kind green eyes and a motherly smile. She had come from Reole and they had met accidentally, while going to the bathroom actually, but it only took one small smile and a simple "hello" to forge a strong bond.

She had also been the one to calm Winry down when her first patient rolled in. The amount of soldiers that she saw come in and out of the hospital was staggering and frightening. Winry couldn't believe how utterly _gory _this line of duty actually was, too, nor how loud a human could scream when they were in pain.

She wondered how her parents did it.

"Cheryl, get over here! I need disinfectant and bandages stat! He's loosing too much blood, oh, no..." Winry tried to snip off the soldier sleeve so she could get a better visual of the gaping bullet wound. He gasped and clutched her hand, digging his blunt nails into her tender skin as he strove for breath. "Shit," she had nearly chopped off his finger. "Cheryl _NOW_!"

"Ma'am!" the nurse – Cheryl – shouted, wheeling in a trolley packed full of the supplies she would need. She glimpsed the pandemonium behind her – the moaning soldiers and doctors shouting calm orders over their pained cries – but focused on her own patient as more soldiers wheeled into the emergency room.

Winry tried her best to inspect the man for any more wounds but it was hard when he kept writhing under her hold and calling out for a person she assumed was his comrade.

"Calm down," Winry ordered, in a controlled voice, and flinched when the man managed to twist her hand the wrong way. "Sir, please—Cheryl, help me!"

The adrenaline that made her heart pound as hard as it did made her face pale, eyes wide, and hands shaky. She often found herself not thinking and simply relying on her instincts but this time she couldn't afford to _not_ think. This soldier was loosing too much blood, the wound was much too big to be properly bandaged and she couldn't sew him up as they had run out of anesthesia and were expecting refills in a few hours time.

It was too dangerous to stick a piece of wood between his teeth, preform minor surgery, sew him up, and call it even.

Until then this soldier would have to endure.

"Hold him down!" Winry demanded, flinching when he released a loud, savage, roar and forced himself up. Blood gushed from his bullet wound the more he moved his shoulder, splattering her white coat red. "Sir, stop! Stop, you're bleeding too much! You can't move just—"

"Those bastards!" he screamed, obsidian eyes scorching and unfocused as he reached for something that was not there. "They killed him! They took him! They _killed_ him!"

"SEDATE HIM!" Winry shrieked. The nurse looked worried as she struggled to hold him down.

"Ma'am, we don't have enough vials to use so recklessly!" She shouted over the soldiers words of vengeance. "We were ordered to use those only on severe cases!"

_This _is_ severe! _Winry thought, irritated.

"We have to! He can hurt those around him so its too risky to leave him awake." Winry bit her lip, as she tried to hold him down on the table. He was too panicked; she couldn't calm him down. "Go! Hurry! Before he gets more agitated and looses more blood!"

"But... r-right!" the nurse hesitated before sprinting out of the emergency room, leaving Winry to deal with the delusional man crying out for his fallen comrade.

It was times like these that she wished she was at home, under her covers, reading silly romance novels and daydreaming about silly girly things involving a certain Elric.

Normal things for girls her age.

"Rockbell! Finish up and get over here!" a fellow doctor called, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his white coat. "I've got a good one for you right here: leg chopped off!"

"I'll be right there!" she shouted over her shoulder, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. "Just hold up! I have to stitch this guy up!"

But now, as the nurse came back and stabbed a needle into the mans arm shakily, knocking him out enough for Winry to quickly cut off the shirt to properly mend the wound as more and more soldiers wheeled into the room, Winry didn't have time for dreaming.

She needed to get a hold of herself and do her job.

The man gasped for breath, chest heaving, fingers trembling as the sedatives kicked in a few minutes later. He opened one eye lazily, lids fluttering. Oddly, a thick ooze of blood trickled from the corner of his lip...

_What?_

That was when she noticed the jagged hole in his lower abdomen, once the shirt had been completely removed.

_How...why didn't I notice that before?_

The bottom part of the shirt was soaked in his blood. That should have tipped her off, but...

He twitched on the table, opened his mouth wide to show blood-stained teeth and white gums. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. He arched up on the table, groaning as he gasped his last breaths.

Winry paled.

_Too much sedative, _she realized. _The nurse miscalculated the dosage!_

He was loosing too much blood—the sedative was causing him more harm than good—he was going to die if she didn't do something—

"Winry! Come here! We have more wounded! I have a guy here with a leg blown off! WINRY!" a woman shouted, antsy.

"Rockbell! I thought you said you were done with him! Get your ass over here, ASAP!" the same man from before shouted, annoyed. "His legs fucking mutilated, man..."

The soldier gasped in a deep, wheezing, breath.

Winry was bolted to the floor.

She stared at the sudden halt of his chest, the loss of light in his eyes. As the blood stilled in his veins, it continued to pour from the openings in his body...pooling on the table, dripping off the edge and getting all over her boots.

_He died._

She couldn't even muster up enough nerve to shake properly.

_All because you weren't fast enough to save him._

"WINRY!"

_All because of one dumb mistake._

"Rockbell! Hurry the _fuck _up – aren't you an automail surgeon or something? This man doesn't have a fucking _leg_!"

"Winry, please, hurry," Cheryl urged, glancing at the soldier and freezing. She smiled tightly and waved over someone standing at the entrance of the emergency room: the special doctors who wheeled away the unfortunate ones...

"Right...right, I'm coming," she rasped. She mechanically moved away, stunned by the death.

She quickly went over to the legless soldier, who clutched it as he howled in pain and tried to retain his dignity by not crying even though she could see beads of tears accumulate in the corner of his eyes.

_At least be fast enough to save this one, Winry, _she told herself as she got to work.

That night was spent tossing and turning, crazed eyes and pained cries haunting her dreams.

Every single time she awoke it was to the same accusatory glare that made her chest ache as she strove for breath. Her heart would thud in her ears, drowning out all other noise. She tried to keep her whimpers and crying down to whispers but ultimately failed since her cries would get out of control the more she thought about that soldiers dead eyes; that soldier who most likely had a family...with children and a loving wife who would never, ever, see him again because of _one stupid mistake._

It was all her fault he died and she didn't know how to handle it; not yet, not ever.

The guilt only festered when Melanie shushed her and rocked her back to sleep.

_It's all my fault._

The worst part was, Melanie never denied it.

* * *

_07 days, 05 hours, 01 second_ _ago_

Winry paused, the lounge losing its peaceful silence. She could hear something happening outside; a different sort of noise than the screams of victims and strict orders of doctors. She tied her hair back into a low ponytail and glanced at the clock: 5 am in the morning...

_It's so early to be receiving soldiers, _Winry frowned. _Then again we've gotten a whole lot of them at 3 am last time... _She was on her 15 minute break as other doctors handled the recovering soldiers in bed-rest. Their hospital was nearly packed, as it was the closest to the battleground, and they would eventually have to relocate several moderately hurt and gravely injured soldiers to another hospital farther away to be able to continue receiving the wounded.

She nearly dropped her cup when she heard a gunshot.

_What the heck is happening out here? _Winry rushed into the hall, closing the door of the lounge behind her, a coffee cup held tightly in her hands. "Hey! What's—"

She'd just taken a small break to refill her coffee cup. This was what happened during her absence..?

There was utter chaos abounding the hospital room: patients out of their beds and limping away from their rooms, terror etched onto their faces. Some wounded soldiers were shouting with vicious conviction, trying to subdue the enemy she just glimpsed as doctors and soldiers alike mixed together so perfectly Winry could no longer tell which was which. They all blurred past her.

But when the swarm of bodies thinned out, she felt her heart skip a beat.

She dropped her cup, ignoring the sting of scalding hot coffee as it splashed on her pants, and stared at the foreign attire of Drachmian soldiers. There were dozens of them, their guns out and threatening; their eyes bent on havoc as they marched through the hospital and shot limping soldiers down.

_How... how did they penetrate the Briggs wall? _She thought with horror, backing away. _How could this have happened?It's impossible – there's no way they could've..._

Their large, furred, hats; the navy blue, nearly black, uniform; the severe expressions; the eyes that spoke of years of hard training. The arms they held in their hands, gleaming under the fluorescent lights of the hospital, merely enhanced their dangerous allure. There was no mistaking it: they were Drachmian. They had, somehow, managed to get past the menacing fort...

Their precence kept her rooted to the spot long enough for them to notice her. One of them caught her eye and she was too frightened to do anything else but run in the opposite direction like a headless chicken as bullets tore through the air.

One by one screams began to cease and Winry's heart threatened to burst in her chest.

She shoved past people, tears welling in her eyes the father in the hospital she ran. She dashed up a stairwell, nearly tripping on a step as she reached the top, and ran into the second floor, where doctors were shouting questions at her. Her foot caught on a trolley and she clumsily tried to fix the bottles and vials of medicine that clattered all over the metal and to the floor.

"Hey, Rockbell, what's happening?" someone asked.

"They—soldiers—they're here!" she mumbled, tremulously, slipping on a vial and falling on her backside painfully. "It's Drachmian soldiers! They've infiltrated the hospital!" she gasped, holding her leg as a pain shot up it.

"Drachmian soldiers?" the middle-aged doctor repeated beside her on a louder tone. "Th-they're inside? Dear lord they've—!"

A shot was fired.

"N..no..." Winry sucked in a sharp breath, staring at the doctors lifeless body.

She was glad he had fallen backward and not facing her.

She didn't think she could handle staring into another pair of dead eyes.

Screams followed soon after.

The second floor was officially in chaos now and she struggled to stand up.

The fall had bruised her knee and the sharp corner of the trolley had sunk into her thigh, tearing skin open.

But that wasn't why she cried harder.

No one bothered to help her. They merely ran past her without a glance.

_It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, _she convinced herself. _Just—keep going! _She was about to continue her mad run when she caught sight of the fellow nurse who had helped her through so many cases in the past few days, on the floor and holding her head; she must've bumped it on the ground when she slipped...

She bolted to her before her mind caught up with what she was doing.

She tried not to think of the soldiers that were closing in on her from behind.

_Just don't think about it!_

"Stand up!" Winry urged, grabbing her by the wrist and tugging her up. Her thigh was bleeding a lot but the pain hadn't really registered yet; not with the amount of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

She needed to help her, that was all she was thinking, she _needed _to help her. She needed to get out. She needed to run, sprint, bolt out of the place that had now became a battleground.

More gunshots.

More screams.

Glass shattered.

A light fixture fell from behind her and Winry glanced over her shoulder, to the Drachmian soldier who hooted in thrill as he shot the ceiling; as if he enjoyed riling them up and watching them run away...he probably did, Winry thought resentfully.

"Winry, run away!" Melanie pushed her away, eye shut in pain. She must've head her head hard. "You don't have time to help me! I'll be right behind you— just go!"

"Just stand up!" Winry pleaded, shaking her head. She refused to leave her. "Come on, we're gonna' make it together! Mel—"

Sounds crashed together to form a horrific melody of fractured screams and broken words.

There was an explosion of pain in the back of her head.

A gush of air wheezed through constricted lungs.

Her knee's hit the tiles, bruising under her weight, as her skull cracked against the floor. A foot lodged itself firmly on her back. She felt the barrel of a gun stab into her head.

The last thing she saw were Melanie's stricken eyes, as the woman was pulled up by her chestnut hair and slowly faded along with the shouts and screams and bullets that Winry would never forget; even as her eyes closed and darkness consumed her.

* * *

_07 days, 01 hour, 37 seconds ago_

Her cheek felt wet. Actually, she felt frozen as she slowly came to.

There was a disgusting aroma filtering through her lungs. She tried to cough it out but it only made it worse.

Her body had felt better days, as she groaned and tried to regain her bearings. She couldn't remember what happened...her head ached like nothing else and her back felt sore...but soon it all came back to her in the form of watering green eyes.

_The hospital! Melanie! _Her eyes snapped open and a scream stuck in her throat when she saw that she was lying in a pool of frosty blood. She backpedaled hastily against the slushy, blood-painted, snow that soaked into her clothing.

Why was there so much blood?

Something bumped against her and when she looked, she saw it was a head; a person. Relief flooded through her as she touched him.

She wasn't alone.

"Hey. Hey, are you ok—"

He was heavy, heavier than usual, and she gave the body a tentative push, freezing when it fell limply forward and splashed into the slush of red; his neck twisting the wrong way.

"Please, please be alive," she whispered. She didn't think about the slosh, the pond of life she was bathing in, as she tremulously touched the artery on his crooked neck.

She felt no pulse.

His skin felt pasty and cold.

Suddenly, the smell of death was so overpowering she wondered how she hadn't notice it before.

"O-oh God," Winry choked, her body shaking when she saw that she was in a room littered with bodies. "Oh God.. oh God.. oh God... no.. no—this—this can't be happening... please..." She shut her eyes, bile rising. "Please." She took deep breaths, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart, and she succeeded enough to gaze around her; to digest the bloodshed that made her stomach turn.

She saw more bodies lined up against the walls with clean holes in their foreheads. They were sat nicely, each one cuffed crudely with rope, and the despair and rage on their faces was still very much alive despite the dead glare in their eyes.

It looked recent.

There was still blood trickling out of the holes in their bodies.

That was where all the blood had come from...

Some bodies were shot so many times body parts were severed or hanging by a sinew of muscle. Those weren't in such a neat line – those were thrust into the wood wall by the force of the bullets; some slumped forward, some twisted to the side; their insides very visible.

A door crashed open, the persons words deafened by the sound of her own crying, and Winry glimpsed the outline of a woman before her stomach won against her logic.

That was the first time she had vomited so badly that she was sure the acid in her stomach burned blisters in her throat.

* * *

_06 days, 07 hours, 34 seconds ago_

Winry discovered that the place she had come to in was actually a small, derelict, house abandoned in the barren land outside Fort Briggs. She had been kept there for a little while, cold and starving, with many others by her side.

The reason she had been inside the house was because they had figured she'd die along with the rest in due time. She was grateful Melanie had saved her from becoming another number in their book.

_But...I could escape, _she thought, staring longingly at the beautiful mountain tops ahead. _I could just—run away and never look back. _But she knew the bullets would reach her before she did and send her off to a different kind of freedom.

_If the bullets don't finish me off, the cold will._

But they were so close to help, Winry could almost taste freedom as they shoved her along the blinding white terrain. The Fort was becoming a distant wall in the chalky horizon the farther they walked.

Soon it disappeared when a cloud of white blew in.

_And there goes freedom, _she thought dully. _There goes..._everything_..._

"Keep moving, Winry," Melanie said through chattering teeth.

"I can't feel my feet," she whispered back.

"Just keep going, okay? Don't fall behind."

Winry nodded jerkily. Her hands were stiff and the circulation was cutting off from the thick rope binds on her wrists. The tips of her fingers were starting to become completely numb and Winry feared frostbite. She no longer felt her face and every time she moved her lips they cracked and blood would begin to well. But these were things that were ignorable compared to the pounding of her head and the emptiness of her stomach. It didn't help that her body felt weak and heavy from the vomiting fit a day ago...

"Where..where are we going?" Winry asked, cautiously glancing at the soldiers that marched forward with deep scowls.

"To Drachma, obviously," Melanie replied, a little dryly. "We're probably going to their base...or some camp...we are technically war hostages now."

"Oh." She was shaking but it wasn't from the cold. Strangely, it was from the fear and despair that had meshed nicely with the hope inside her heart. She liked to let everyone else think that it was the cold that had her quivering...but she was pretty sure everyone else who shivered wasn't shivering from the cold, either.

"War hostages," Winry repeated bitterly, closing her eyes when a strong gust of air slapped her face. "Do you think they'll kill us?"

"Maybe," Melanie sighed softly. "I-I don't know...I've never been a war hostage before..."

"Well, um, there's a first time for everything, right?" she smiled tiredly, hoping to at least bring a little light to the endless tunnel of darkness they had descended in.

"Walk faster," Melanie murmured, quietly supporting Winry's weight when she noticed the girl's suddenly sluggish steps. "You can't fall behind. You'll catch their attention if you do."

"Yeah..." _I only had coffee, _she thought, a little deliriously. _I knew not eating would come back and bite me in the ass. _Her foot caught in a ditch of snow and she fell onto Melanie, who had to stop completely so she could break her fall.

It didn't work.

A soldier saw this and scowled.

"What's the hold up here?" he demanded. "Get moving."

But Winry's foot hurt and she thought, with rising panic, that maybe she had sprained it? The numb feeling from the ice made it hard to decide.

"I said, _move_!"

"Hey, what's the hold up?" another officer called, his voice rugged. "Move it!"

Winry desperately pushed Melanie out of the way, as she struggled to stand when a particularly rough gust of wind shoved her back down.

"Don't come near me," Winry hissed, through chattering teeth. "They'll hurt you if you do! I-I can stand up by myself, don't worry!"

Melanie looked torn.

"Move it!" a harsh voice commanded, sending her into the snow again when his foot connected with her back. "Stand up, you filthy Amestrian! I SAID STAND UP!" His foot pushed harder into her back.

"I-I can't!" she gasped. "Please—just get your foot off—!"

Pain exploded in her stomach.

She hacked something out. It wasn't blood but it was something acidic and nasty.

She heard laughter.

"_STAND UP!"_

Her arms sunk deeper into the snow, froze further as the ice slowly began to damage the already burned tissue of her fingers. Her body had sunken two feet into the ditch and she could not, for the life in her, stand up on her own. The kick made everything worse; she was sure he'd bruised her ribs.

Her arms gave out and she whimpered in the snow, the ice like fire against her skin.

The Drachmian soldier frowned. He pulled her up by her ponytail, a hoarse cry escaping her lips as he set her on her feet again. She felt his hands grip the front of her shirt, his other hand brush against her breast.

She desperately pushed away but he held her there.

Her eyes widened when he grabbed her breast.

"N...NO! Let me go—let me go, you bastard!" She pushed away, only to be clutched by the neck and shoved around; his hand still cupping her breast. He was cruel, she admitted, to flip her around and show everyone the vulgarity of his actions.

"Be still," the man murmured into her ear. She felt disgusted by his breath against her ear.

"Hey! Save it for later!" another soldier called, sounding amused. "It's fucking cold out here!"

"Shut up!" the man snapped, his hand tightening around her breast. It hurt, she thought with watering eyes, it hurt so badly the more he gripped her. It hurt both emotionally and physically. She wished he would just stop; she wished she could _do _something but the gun in their hands scared her too much to try something.

"St..stop it," she choked, teeth clenched in rage. "Stop it!" She caught Melanie's watering eyes and looked away instantly. She struggled against him, dark thoughts running circles in her head as she resisted a choke of pain from how hard he was gripping her breast. _He's just-just touching my breast_, she tried to rationalize, bringing forth that Rockbell tough attitude her grandmother always praised. _It's nothing. It's nothing. It's nothing..._

His lips touched the crown of her head and she couldn't suck up the shuddering sob that wracked her body.

_A-at least I'm alive, _she shut her eyes. _I—I'm...alive...just—just don't think about it!_

His hand slid from her breast and he pushed her forward without warning. Melanie rushed to her and tried to hold her up with her shoulder, her green eyes hatefully glaring at the satisfied soldier with his hands on his hips.

The other surviving doctors and few Amestrian soldiers in their wake allowed Winry a few moments to regain her dignity.

"Break time's over!" a soldier shouted, getting his gun out and stabbing the barrel into the backs of lagging hostages. "Come on! Move it along! Move it along!"

Winry tremulously glanced at the soldier who'd touched her, at his lewd smile and the frightening promise that glowed in his black eyes.

"There we go," he drawled, when Winry shakily took a step and then another. She walked past him, his eyes roving her body in a way that made her feel dirty. "I've got special plans for you, girl. Don't die on me just yet, you Amestrian slag."

"Don't listen to him," Melanie breathed into her ear. She helped her forward with her shoulder. "Don't listen to him – I won't let _anything_ happen to you. I promise you."

She heard his chuckles from behind her.

Winry felt like vomiting again.

_At least you know they won't let you die – not yet._


	3. Endurance

**5 Second Countdown  
_by. _**_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_03: Endurance_

* * *

_03 days, 04 hours, 03 seconds ago_

She was spitting blood, as her granny would say.

She had lost weight in those few days and it was obvious that they were starving them. They would eat in front of them and laugh when they saw the primitive spark in their eyes that yearned for supplement. They splashed cold water all over them with hoses sporadically, watching as some of them desperately licked the liquid to ease their parched throats.

But mostly it served as a torture method.

One of them had already succumbed to the icy waters and was stinking up the entire cell; the smell wafting into other cells. The stench was starting to become unbearable, as the body began to decompose. The cold was helping stunt the decomposing process but that didn't mean that the body had stopped rotting completely.

They didn't bother to remove the body.

That was probably because the smell was a warning to them all that if any one of them tried anything, that would ultimately be their fate.

Winry didn't even try to act out in rebellion. Her body felt too weak and cold. She felt utterly helpless.

She hated it.

Sometimes her muscles would give out on her early and the men would try to undo her blue trousers but Melanie would always fend them off for her, screeching and biting and punching until they let her go or tried to fight back and forgot about Winry.

Winry felt it was a miracle that the female officer that often checked up on them had absolutely no tolerance for rape. She said, coldly, that mating with Amestrian filth was an insult to her people and that the men should have more dignity than to fuck things like them.

Winry didn't really let the scathing words get to her. As long as no one touched her, as along as she could retain this last shred of innocence, she didn't care. Their words would became a distant memory soon enough, right? Just like everything else...

However, that female officer had no qualms in watching them get abused, battered, or tortured, by the male soldiers for 'information gathering', as they liked to call it. There was nothing informative about what they did, especially when they did it in the cells and everyone could hear the howls of anguish as they were beat again and again and again...

Melanie had, luckily, survived the freezing walk with her to this jail unlike others who had succumbed to the cold and were left to die when they saw they really couldn't go on anymore. She hovered close to Winry, not letting her stray too far from sight when they transferred them to different cells as they received more and more prisoners.

During the time spent in their semi-permanent, eight by twelve, cell, Melanie had been taken out a lot to get 'interrogated' and she often came back with new bruises on her body, a haunted look in her eyes, and an empty smile that twisted Winry's heart every time she saw it.

Somehow, Winry knew the woman was protecting her from more than just severe beatings.

It made Winry sick just thinking about what the woman had bargained for in order for her to retain her dignity.

"_I promise you," _she had said, that day that seemed so long ago now, and Winry hoped, really, truly, hoped, that it was not what she knew it was.

_I won't let her go, not this time, _she thought, determinedly. She side-glanced Melanie, who sat a few feet beside her; knee's drawn up to her chest to conserve heat. She could barely see her but there was enough light to warn Winry that she was most likely resting her eyes.

Melanie didn't really sleep.

The door creaked open, a light blinding her.

"You, come!" a soldier snapped, beckoning Melanie with his finger. The woman jerked awake automatically. "Now!"

This was it.

She grabbed Melanie's hand and pulled her down when she stood up.

"No—Win—"

"What do you want with her!" Winry yelled, her voice rough from disuse. She stood up on weak legs, pushing Melanie behind her to keep her face from that man's sneering face. "Answer me! What do you want with her?"

The soldier snarled and marched forward, his hand striking her cheek brutally without a seconds hesitation. "Don't you dare raise your voice at me, you filth!" he sneered, teeth bared. "It is none of your business what I want this whore for!"

But he had said it all.

_N-no way, _Winry shakily thought, tightening her hold on Melanie's hand. The words caught in her throat. _They really are...?_

Winry sent Melanie a despaired look.

"I won't let anything happen to you, Winry," the woman smiled kindly, painfully. "You remind me too much of my own daughter. I wouldn't be able to bear it if... if they abused you like this."

"But w-why?" Her voice cracked, as she sobbed out her words: "How come you're taking all of this? You don't have to protect me, the-the commander said that they couldn't—"

"Oh, Winry, do you actually think they listen to her?" Melanie interrupted her, as the Drachmian soldier chuckled coldly. "You don't know the types of things they do to girls like you. I'm old, Winry. I'm already fifty three. I've lived my fair share but you... you haven't. I don't want you to carry scars like these for the rest of your life."

"B-but..." She never felt so useless, so hopeless, as she did in that moment. "Why?"

Melanie smiled, exhaustedly. "I promised, didn't I?"

She felt her heart crack right down the middle. Promises...she knew all about promises. She had been promised a lot during her years. Edward was mostly the one who made promises with her. He promised to never make her cry again; he promised he wouldn't try to bang up her automail too badly; he promised...to always protect her...

"Be grateful, girl," the soldier told her, voice casual. "Accept and move on; she is doing this for you and you should not be as selfish as to deny her this request."

_Who's he to tell me this? _She clenched her teeth, glaring darkly at the soldier standing at the door. Winry was livid, her blue eyes crackling with rage. The weakness her body felt was temporarily forgotten, as rage pumped through her veins. "You're scum!" she spat, injecting as much venom as she could into those two words.

He smirked in reply. "If I am scum, then you must be worse."

He grabbed Melanie and pushed her to the door.

Melanie smiled a comforting, tired, smile before the door closed and engulfed Winry in darkness once more.

She felt useless.

Hopeless.

She slid down the wall, slumped forward on her knees, and didn't try to stop the flow of tears as her hands fisted. That rage that pooled inside her, poisoned her, was becoming too much to bear as she heard the clacks of Melanie's shackles slowly fade the farther she walked away. She twisted her mouth, screwed her eyes shut, and punched her fist onto the cement, pain flaring in her knuckles, and repeated the action a few more times.

She stopped after five violent punches.

Her knuckled hurt too much.

She was sure they were bleeding a little. The ground was rough and frozen from the slush that frosted under her dull boots. She felt little shards of ice dig into her knuckles as she slowly brought it back down on the floor one last time.

_I couldn't do anything! Why can't I at least...at least do something useful? _She grieved, closing her eyes against the thick drop of tears.

She knew why though.

She was afraid.

She was terrified of being touched. She was terrified of being beat. She was terrified of pain, of darkness, of so many things that it seemed ridiculous now, as she kneeled alone in the dirty, cramped, cell with no one but her shackles as her friend.

She was as good as dead.

She had nothing else to fear but death; all her problems at home, Ed and Al, they all seemed minor and stupid compared to what she was faced with now. All of this pointless hoping, all of this useless praying, would do her no good in a few short hours, when she was sure, by the darkly delighted look she had received from her previous tormentor, they would kill her once and for all with their bare hands.

"_Skull means nothing against those who are willing to kill you with their bare hands"_

She hiccuped a hysterical laugh that faded into pitiful sobs of resignation.

"W-why does it have to be like this?" she whispered, curling up into a ball on the floor. The ground was cold against her cheek, cold like the soldiers that patrolled the area all day and all night, and she allowed that one person she had stubbornly refused to think about because it hurt too much to dominate her thoughts again.

It made an old ache sprout back in her chest.

At least it was a different type of pain.

This was a pain she'd grown used to over the years. She could handle _this_ pain...

_And who knows? _She thought, numbly. _I-I'll probably never see him again so...so.. _She felt her chest tighten with emotion again, her throat close up as tears stung her eyes again.

"E...Ed," she whimpered, screwing her eyes shut to keep in the flood of tears. They would do her no good in this barren wasteland. "Edward... Please, I, Ed... Ed.. Ed..."

She fell asleep chanting his name like a prayer.

* * *

_01 day, 02 hours, 14 seconds ago_

"ARGHHHHH!"

Winry covered her ears and stared at the wall.

Another scream.

Another shout to shut her up.

There were sounds of pincers falling on the floor and a loud curse that made her wince because of its harshness.

She shut her eyes against the blood-curdling screams that penetrated every wall in the dungeons they were kept in. Melanie shifted forward and brought Winry's head to rest on her chest, shushing her as small hiccups escaped her lips.

"W-what are they doing to her?" Winry whispered.

"I think it's the woman a few cells down," Melanie said, closing her eyes as another howl of pain came and went. "She's been here for more than seven months already. I think she was a spy for Briggs sent to investigate Drachma headquarters... and she was caught." The woman sighed. "I'm not sure, I could only speak to them very briefly when the soldier comes to take me out and locks me up to the bars while he goes to fix something or the other," she shook her head, lips pressed tightly together.

Winry gazed at her, to the tense glimmer in her green eyes.

"Are they torturing her?"

"Probably," Melanie said testily. "I... yes, they're torturing her."

"You hesitated," Winry accused. The screams became weaker, the longer they took doing the lord-knew-what. "What is it? What are they doing to her?"

"Nothing," Melanie smiled, almost believably. But Winry knew better.

"No, you're hiding something from me." Winry pushed off of her. "What is it? Tell me."

"It's noth—"

"Bullshit! It's something!" Winry snapped, her hands balling as a familiar ache appeared in her chest. "Why don't you just tell me? What's so important you have to keep it to yourself? Why doesn't anyone ever tell me anything? I can handle it! I-I know I can!" Winry bit her lip, her blue eyes carved out and hollow.

The days were staring to seem like too much.

She had new wounds.

New bruises.

New everything as they took her out of the cell to 'interrogate' her.

They did it more often now.

They touched her sometimes, tried to fondle her breasts and forcefully kiss her, they tried to violate her and take her last shred of _something_she had, but she resisted and often times it helped, as they seemed to love the fearful, wild, look in her eyes every time she tried to run away from them.

Now it was a game for them. They loved seeing her crawl away like a terrified animal.

It was a sick game and it would not stop until one or the other succumbed to their tactics.

Winry refused to succumb to their disgusting advances.

She was better than that. She'd give them hell, no matter how tired or weak she felt, before they could take that from her.

Melanie surveyed her sympathetically. "You... weren't talking about me, were you?"

Winry's shoulders slumped and her chin hit her chest. "...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. You're right, I wasn't. It's...it's just that these two really close friends of mine always keep things from me." Winry sunk into the wall, rubbed her arms against the persistent chill. "Dangerous things, you know? The type of secrets that could get them killed or worse..."

"Maybe that's why they keep them from you." Melanie scooted closer to her. "They don't want to put you in danger."

"But they put me in even _more _danger when they don't," Winry mumbled a little irritatingly.

"That might be so but they are probably trying their best to keep you out of their affairs in order to protect you, right?" Melanie's eyes twinkled with knowing. Winry looked down at her scratched up boots.

"Yeah... I guess they are." Winry picked dirt from underneath her nails. "Someone once told me men speak more with actions than words. I guess it's true, huh? They've shown me more than they've spoken to me about their adventures... I guess I just have to be there for them when they need me the most, right?" She heaved a sigh. "It's still hard..."

"Wise words," Melanie smiled warmly. "But it is something you just have to endure for the time being. There will come a time when they will let you in. Until then, you should just be there for them."

Winry gave her a searching stare. "He...that man who told me that was a wise man," Winry responded, sadly. "He.. he was murdered a few years ago."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." Winry rested her chin on her knee's. She could still hear anguished crying from the woman a few cells down. It wasn't bothering her too much now. She was glad. "I got over it."

She hoped she would be able to get over this if she ever made it out...

It was naïve hoping but it was something to cling onto when all this darkness threatened to make her insane.

"If you really want to know," Melanie said, after a while of companionable silence. "They're preforming surgery on her."

"Surgery?" Winry furrowed her brows in concern. "What type of surgery? And why aren't they sedating her? It's really dangerous to preform it here, too, in the cells..." she trailed off, timidly.

"They wouldn't waste such valuable resources on us," Melanie chuckled, bitterly. "You know that. You said it yourself."

Winry looked at her, apprehensively. "What type of... surgery are they preforming?"

Melanie closed her eyes and leaned heavily on Winry.

"Abortion."

Another scream tore through the building.

* * *

_00 days, 02 hours, 12 seconds ago_

Winry had the feeling that Melanie knew something she didn't.

The woman kept glancing at the door and in the dim lighting Winry could see her fingers tap impatiently on her knee. There was also the tense shoulders, the flicker of emotions that fleeted her face if Winry stared at her long enough, as well as the soft sighs that escaped her lips.

Winry curled closer into herself, trying to ignore the chill that always reminded her of the darkness in her life.

"Is something wrong?" Winry asked softly, when the tapping became too much for her not to question.

"No, nothing," Melanie frowned, pausing the fidget and instead curling her hand into a fist. "Why do you ask?"

"N-no reason," A shiver ran down her spine. The cold was becoming worse. "I think there's a blizzard outside..."

"There probably is. Look," Melanie pointed at the rectangular window toward the ceiling. White puffs splashed through it; the snow very visible. "It's going to get worse, too. Snow storms in Drachma are worse than in Briggs."

Winry rubbed her arms. The white medical coat only offered so little warmth, the material still stiff and starchy, and they refused to give them any other clothing aside from a dirty rag which they called a 'blanket'.

Both woman never touched it.

It looked filthy and they did not want to inherit some disease from the dirty piece of fabric.

"I hope it goes away soon."

"It will. Everything fades with time." Melanie scooted closer, offering body heat. The cell was dripping with water from a leaky pipe across from them and the water was soaking their bottoms. She could feel Winry's trembles transfer into her own body. "It will all fade soon..."

Winry closed her eyes, only to snap them open again when she heard the familiar sound of a lock on a door being turned.

Before she could react, a bright light blinded her and she felt Melanie release her, letting the cold wrap around her once more.

"Are you going again?" Winry asked hoarsely, watching despondently as Melanie walked over to the soldiers silent beckon. It was always the same soldier, who could pass as Amestrian save for the black eyes and sharp facial structure that defined Drachma civilians, that came to get her.

"Faster," the soldier barked.

"I'll be back soon. I'll make sure no one comes in while I'm away," Melanie promised, as she took the man's hand almost gently. Winry narrowed her eyes and tucked her legs closer to her. She had been given some food, very bad food, due to Melanie's persistence but it wasn't nearly enough to keep the hunger pains away.

However, as Winry observed Melanie, the woman looked quite healthy... kind of like before, when they were in the hospital...

Winry brushed these thoughts off when the soldier cuffed Melanie as per usual.

"Melanie," Winry called, before the door shut.

"What is it?" Melanie hovered by the door, the tall soldier waiting for Winry to speak so he could shut her in the darkness again. His cold eyes foreshadowed pain if she said the wrong thing... she needed to be careful.

"I-I'm sorry.." The words sounded weak, frail, and Winry didn't think she could ever voice such a pathetic sound. She looked down at her lap, unable to meet the woman's gaze.

The door shut before Melanie could respond.

She was once again engulfed in the dark that served more as a blessing than a curse.

At least in the dark she didn't have to see her deprived body; the hands that hurt as the tips had turned a shade of black nor the scratches, bruises, or swelling around her face and ribs and arms.

She didn't have to see her mangled body and for that was grateful.

The swirl of snow clouding the rectangular window became worse.

The water became frost under boots in no time at all.

Winry closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep.

* * *

_00 weeks, 00 days, 00 hours, 05 seconds: Present_

"Let me go! Let me go you son of a—ow, no, let me go!" She kicked and struggled and dragged herself and held onto whatever she could get her hands on. She refused to be flung into some dark room and have people beat her senseless.

She was tired of being submissive.

She wanted to get out.

_He_ had come into her cell when she had been dozing off and immediately grabbed her by the neck. It was the soldier who had touched her before. The one who usually loved to bring her out for apparent reason and start to molest her in the Interrogation Room; start to kick her and watch her snivel on the floor with that disgusting smirk plastered on his face. He didn't even give her a chance to digest what was happening before he was dragging her down the hall, seemingly in a spitting rage for some reason.

She was going to be used as a tool to expunge his fury.

She refused.

"Be still!" The soldier snapped, a dark menace in his eyes.

"NO! I told you! I don't know anything! Just let me go!"

"You leave me no choice then," the soldier smirked, effortlessly slamming her head into the wall hard enough to disorientate her.

Stars exploded behind the lid of her eyes and her head gave a mighty pound.

Whatever rebellious thoughts were in her mind quickly dissolved into thoughts of just how much her head hurt. It was enough to shake her back to reality – to make her realize just how exhausted and weak her body really was – and even though she hated the weakness, there was nothing she could do about it.

He dragged her the rest of the way.

Winry gurgled out something incoherent, gasping for breath as his hand clenched reflexively against her neck.

Then it happened.

Winry froze, the fingers clawed around the wider hand that strangled her with its strength.

She saw it, _them_.

It was a mere glimpse – it could have been a trick of the eye – but she was so _sure_ it was them.

Their hair color was different – black – but their eyes still had the piercing gold shade that she'd always admired throughout the years. But the warm, kind, emotion usually shining in their eyes was replaced with something different; something she had never seen before.

Their eyes were wide, frozen: one pair blistering with savage rage and the other with horror.

Winry hoped she didn't look as bad as she felt.

"LEMME' GO!"

"Hold still, you trash!" the man spat, tightening his grip.

"NO—STOP—UGH!" Her throat crushed closed, air suddenly become a necessity. The panic which was already full-scale drained into an urgency she'd never felt before as she clawed and choked and kicked.

Her eyes began to roll up, water, as her body slowly shut down against her will.

Her surroundings turned black, spots appearing from the corner of her eyes, and her lungs burned for air so badly tears started to roll down her face in excess.

Then, release.

Her cheek collided with the concrete floor and she strove for air. She clutched her head and allowed the acrid air of Drachma to fill her lungs. Despite the cold that seared her lungs, she had never been so happy to _breathe _than she did there.

Her vision became clearer, the urgency for air fading into exhaustion, but the terror that they had arrived to that looming, steel, door that promised a world of pain was crystal clear in her dizzy mind.

_Not again, _she thought weakly, trying feebly to turn away from the door that opened up a myriad of horrors. _Why do they keep doing this? Why me?_

"Now, will you cooperate this time?" he asked, kneeling down and lifting her chin with one finger. She blinked tears away, trying to be strong but ultimately failing because how can you be strong when the person who might very well be your murderer was staring straight at you?

"I... I swear," she sobbed, ripping her chin from his grasp. "I don't know anything."

"What about Full Metal?" the man asked. "What are his special techniques?"

"I don't know."

"How about his brother? There are rumors stating that he is in an immortal state. Is this true?"

"No!"

"Full Metal's specialty, what is it?" he rephrased, which only earned the same answer.

"I don't know!" Winry shut her eyes and sucked in another sob. "I-I don't know! Just let me go... please, I really don't know anything..."

The commander stared at her, a darkness foreboding the hell she would go through shading his eyes. That slick smile appeared on his face again, as he gazed at her fallen body with primal desire.

"I guess it's time, isn't it?" he whispered, almost comfortingly. "You'll be put out of your misery soon, girl, but not after I get my fun." He grinned, as if he hit the jackpot.

Winry tremulously lifted herself on her forearm, shaking her head, a pleading glimmer in her glossy eyes. She cried out when the soldier lifted her limply by the neck again, grabbed her coat and tried to shrug it off of her. She refused but he was quick and managed to jerk the coat off of her, letting the cold air touch her trembling skin.

Her eyes desperately flashed to the two men she had recognized as Ed and Al.

They weren't there.

Her stomach plummeted to her ankles.

Had she hallucinated her deepest hopes?

She was thrown into the room before she could think into it anymore.

Screams filled the room for the next hour.

* * *

_**A/N: **_And the heros finally appear. About time, right? I've gotten a few reviews that asked if Ed and Al were ever going to appear. Well, they would - eventually lol. I also got one that asked if I'd ever make a chapter on their thoughts and I have to say that this is more Winry-centric. It's all revolves around her and not the boys although there will be a lot of EdWin interaction, I can assure that.

This story is actually complete XD

I wouldn't have posted it up if it wasn't. I know myself enough that it'd take me YEARS to complete a fanfiction since I lose interest fairly soon. So first I complete the fictions and then I post them up and update crazy-fast. I'll try to update every three to five days, tops. Man, this story is going to be completed by the end of the month D:

Review!

_Scarlett._


	4. Rescue

**5 Second Countdown  
_by. _**_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_04: Rescue_

* * *

_00 days, -01 hour, -5 seconds later_

She crashed to the ground again, eyes crossing, part of her face numb and her leg hurting so badly; canceling out with the pain in her arm. But the pain in her body were the least of her worries as the man circled her predatorily. Everytime he asked her a question and everytime she answered wrongly he would pick her up and throw her against the wall like some children's ball.

Half the time, he either kicked her or didn't do anything, which wound her up in anxiety as she waited for him to snap and hit her again.

It was a sick game and he was winning.

She hated it.

But then again, when didn't she?

Hate was an emotion she had grown used to feeling during the days spent in the isolation of her cell. The light emotions she failed to cherish when she was safe and sound made her mourn. She took for granted so many things, she regretted so many things, and now she was face-to-face with her soon-to-be murderer and she could nothing but cry like the weak little girl he taunted her to be.

"How can we enter Briggs unnoticed?"

"I... don't know," Winry gasped, clutching her cheek. She sat up slowly, still holding her throbbing cheek, and gazed guardedly through the veil of her blond hair, which was in tangles and knots and splayed across her face from the rough handling.

"We have evidence that states you were given a tour by that traitor Zolf J. Kimblee," the commander said, a frown in his voice. "You _must_ know another way inside. There must be."

"There is no way inside," she said quietly. "Briggs was built...to be impregnable. If there is a way, I don't know it," Winry confessed hoarsely, hacking up what little liquid she had in her stomach when he kicked her with a sneering wrinkle of his nose. She fell on her side, deliriously thinking that maybe if he kicked her again she'd pass out and then he couldn't do anything else that might harm her.

Because she would be long gone and in the realm where miracles happened; where anything could be easily created or destroyed; where Edward could reassure her and smile at her and hug her and wash out the darkness in her heart with a single whisper of her name...

"I shall ask you again, how can we—!"

There was the sound of the iron door slamming open.

A gust of cold wind hit her, making her recoil on the dirty floor as she held a palm to her swelling eye.

A surprised shout distracted her.

The squelch of boots made her stomach churn.

Winry weakly rolled on her back and lolled her head to the side, trying to focus her swimming vision on the two shadow figures that seemed to be fighting. She could hear shouts and snarls; backs slamming against concrete and the distinct sound of bone breaking under the force of fists. She felt something sweep past her, to the wall, which was followed by the frightening snarl of: "get the _fuck up_, you bastard."

A whimper escaped her throat, as she breathed in shallow breathes.

She couldn't feel her hands, even as she shakily tried to sit up to no avail.

Her lower back had this scary numb feeling that had her struggling to touch it in an attempt to assure herself that she was alright; that the numbness was from the cold and not from the wall-cracking kick she'd been victim to. She gave up trying to touch it and instead focused on staying awake.

When she rolled to the side, her elbow caught in her ribs and shot a scalding pain down her body. Her body lapsed in control and Winry screamed through bloody, clenched, teeth. She choked on the pool of blood in her throat, spat it out and continued to scream because her ribs hurt _so badly _and she didn't know what was worse: the numbness in her lower back or the acidic spread in her side.

Someone was there suddenly, picking her up. She felt urgency wash through her. She desperately shoved her way out of the arms, side still burning and head still pounding. She released a pitiful sob of fright and ducked her head, too pained to do anything more, but the sob received a soothing "shhh" in return instead of a mocking taunt.

Her eyes couldn't focus on whoever it was carrying her and she couldn't say anything because her jaw felt oddly slack. There was no pain – just a mere absence around her upper jaw – but she was sure it was dislocated and the sheer cold had numbed the pain enough that she did not feel it.

But she would eventually.

She always felt every kick, every punch, every scathing word, once the trauma passed and she was left with the bitter aftertaste.

"Let...go.." she rasped, trying to throw off the arms wrapped around her frail body. A sob hiccuped from her raw throat. "No... p'ease.."

"It's okay, Winry. You're going to be okay. Y-you're going to be okay. I swear I won't let anyone hurt you anymore," he breathed into her ear. "I _promise _they will never hurt you again."

She recognized the voice continuing to sooth the bitter crackle in her heart. That determined voice could only belong to one person. However, at that time, in those crucial one hour, five seconds too late, the voice was tinged with poorly concealed loathe but the panic and fear were more prominent than anything else.

She didn't want to believe it was him.

She was scared to believe it was him.

_I didn't dream it, _she found herself thinking. _He's really here... _She felt him pull her up, felt weightless in his arms, and then light blinded her and the cold was more sweet than anything as he ran.

"Did you get her—W...Winry?"

Alphonse.

"I have her, now let's go before they catch onto—!"

An alarm rang in the distance.

She saw red pulse behind her eye lids.

"Too late..."

"Oh, no, I think we've been detected! We have to go back and warn—!"

"The others are releasing the rest, Al! They're going make it!" he replied, sharply. "Our main priority was to rescue Winry! We don't have time to go back and help the rest! This place is swarming with those Drachmian scum and if we don't hurry then _we're _going to end up like _them_!"

"But... I... okay." The defeat in the younger Elric's voice had Winry contemptuously thinking that if he did not get the silly notion of 'helping everyone' out of his head then he, too, would be crushed by the cruelty of the North just as she was.

It was her naivete that got her into this mess and only she was aware that only she could get herself out of it.

However, her luck had pulled through after all...

"_Remember that if you survive, it is on sheer luck alone."_

She nearly laughed.

"_Hey! _You two! Stop right there!"

"Damn it! Alphonse, now!" She heard a clap, the roaring crash of rock before the gun shots registered in her head. One of them came too close for comfort and she felt Edward press her tighter into his chest; as if he would take the bullet if it came down to it.

She felt fear trickle down her spine.

She hoped he wasn't hurt.

She wouldn't bear it if he were hurt because of her; if another person got hurt because she was too weak to protect herself.

_Melanie...?_

"Exit, exit, exit..." she heard Ed's murmuring. She parted her lips, wanting to help the best way she could but all she could manage was a shallow draw of air. "Fuck this! I'm making my _own_ exit!"

"Wait for me, brother—wait, why are we going this way? The exit is over—"

"We don't have time! Look at her! She's... she's... _damn it!_"

She cried out when he adjusted her in his arms.

"Al, do it."

"But brother—!"

"I'd fucking do it myself but if you remember I _can't _so DO IT ALPHONSE!"

She heard a faint clap, a short "we're almost out, Win", before a loud explosion deafened her for a moment.

Then cold.

A bitter cold that had her silently crying because it stringed along a myriad of memories she wished she could forget. It was no longer sweet, like before, now it was just daunting. Through clenched teeth, she cried, raising a weak hand to press into her eyes as she recalled the lifeless, expressionless, bodies of those forsaken by the country they had been fighting for.

_What's going to happen to me now?_

Was this even real? She believed it was. But isolation and fear had a way of making the most stony person break into a million shards of glass...

And she had never been very strong; no matter what people said.

"It's okay, Win, please stop crying." A hand brushed her cheek, gently pried the fingers open when she dug them into her eyes to stop the repetition of black memories. The cold was still overwhelming but she calmed down enough to grab his shirt and dig her face into his chest to protect herself against the harsh winds and merciless flashbacks.

_...Edward..._

"I'm scared," she whispered into his jacket. Melanie. She was thinking about Melanie and how helpful she had been in comforting her. Her soft words and sweet lullabies were enough to sooth Winry whenever she had an anxiety attack or couldn't sleep at night because she was too scared; because she knew the solders would rile them up with gun shots or haul them out before they even knew what was happening.

She wished she was with her in that moment.

But she had been taken out before herself.

She was being tortured or—or

_Dead? Is she dead?_

_She, _herself, had almost died.

Maybe she had already...?

She swallowed and forced the thought out of her mind.

A guttural growl brought her out of her thoughts; made her grip harder on his jacket. "You don't need to be afraid anymore, Winry. I won't let them hurt you. I won't _ever _let them hurt you again. I promise I won't let anyone hurt you anymore!"

The fierceness in his words was enough for her.

She may not have Melanie with her in those moments but she had someone better: she had Edward Elric and he would first die before letting anything happen to her.

In a way, she hoped he wouldn't.

Enough people had tried to save her from the darkness of the world.

Maybe it was time she just became another number to the cruelty? Maybe then she would learn and grow; no matter how many cracks adorned her heart because of it.

"Okay," she choked in a breath and felt something wrap around her and block the freezing wind.

There was some more talk, some more hands wiping away her tears, and a few more voices joining into the cacophony of noise as she slowly began to fade from the world of ear-splitting screams and malicious laughs.

She wondered for the last time if this was all a dream.

If it was, she didn't want to wake up.

* * *

_02 days, 03 hours, 06 seconds later_

The next time she awoke, it was to a white ceiling.

There were birds chirping outside and the warm sunlight filtered by the open window made her flinch and turn away. She couldn't comprehend this sweet nirvana as she sat up, crying out when her stomach gave a jab of pain and her leg and arm burned. Her side was also throbbing terribly...

There was something around her jaw, keeping it in place, but she could move her lips enough to talk. It wrapped down to her neck, thickly, almost suffocatingly.

There was some sort of cast around her arm, heavy bandages around her hands and feet, and needles stuck in her free arm.

A dull ache appeared in her lower back.

But the crash of pain was enough to disorientate her; to panic her enough that she disregarded everything in an attempt to escape. Her mind conjured this screwed up notion that maybe this was her opening for escape...?

_Where am I?_

The door creaked opened, something that made her blood run cold, and Winry screamed, fearing the worst as she remembered the dreadful creaking of the door in her cell...

_He's back, _Winry thought, blinded by panic. _HE'S BACK!_

"Winry? What're you—wait, calm down! Winry!"

"NOO! LET ME GO! ED! MELANIE! M-MEL—!"

"It's me! Ed! It's me, Win, it's me Ed! I'm right here!"

The door opened again, which only added to the churning urgency in the pit of her stomach. "Brother, whats wrong?"

"I don't know! She freaked out on me! Call the nurse, Al! Winry, stop it, you're going to hurt yourself—!"

But she couldn't hear him because she was suddenly struck with so many awful memories that had her quivering in place, her free hand desperately pulling at the contraption locked around her neck. There was pain erupting around every part of her body with her erratic movements but all she could think about was how she needed to escape and how she needed to find Melanie and just _disappear._

Her mind raced as she whined and kept clawing at the rough neck-brace, thinking it was just another shackle to chain her down with; a torture device to try and make her squeal information she didn't even know.

_Where am I? What is this?_

"Pin her down," a sharp voice instructed. This only ratcheted her survival instinct; the pull inside her that told her to run away; far, far away and never look back. She gave up trying to get the device off her neck and instead focused on getting off the bed, as hands grabbed her and tried to push her back.

_No, _she thought, urgently. _Not again! I can't let them get me! I can't! _She ripped her arm from their hands, shoving it forward and feeling a flare of triumph when she heard a wheeze.

She hit one.

"LET ME GO!" Winry grabbed the nurses hand with startling strength. Her blue eyes were wide, fierce, and painted with misplaced determination. She saw her wild eyes in the reflection of the nurse's glasses. She didn't really think about it.

She shoved the nurse back, tore off the tubes connected in her arm and placed her feet on the cold ground.

_Concrete. Its full of blood. Its full of bodies and—_She tried to push through someone. She tried her best to escape. _Where am I? How could this—?_

"Winry, no one is going to hurt you! It's me, Alphonse! We're not going to let you go back, okay, so please calm down—!"

"_LIAR_!" Winry shrieked, forcing herself forward.

The anxiety was staggering.

They were pushing her back.

They were all pushing her back.

_Just one break, _she thought, heartbeat hammering in her chest. _I just need a break! Just one! Please!_

She felt her back connect with the bed again; hands pinned her down strongly; the dizzying smell of disinfectant was making her stomach cramp. "... please stop I don't know anything..." she rasped.

She struggled against their grip and saw a flash of white, the gleam of a needle, and felt a pierce in her arm.

_Not again..._

"Melanie," she hoarsely whispered, as the adrenaline drained to sleepiness. Whatever they had injected, it made her limbs lose their strength and though she knew she should be panicking, she couldn't bring forth enough strength to properly express it.

Her eyes were too heavy; head pounding as if stuffed with cotton. Her mind screamed that she was in a dire situation but her body wouldn't respond. "Help me, Melanie, they're hurting me again..." she breathed, as her shoulders relaxed and her body sunk into the stiff mattress.

Her vision swam.

Her mouth slacked.

Her body felt so floaty and all rational thought melted into distorted images and misplaced sounds.

The last thing she saw were pained gold eyes.

* * *

_04 days, 08 hours, 09 seconds later_

The next time she awoke she wasn't as panicked as the first time.

She could wrap her head around the fact that the room was neat, stark white, and reeked of disinfectant. There was the familiar echo of steps and murmur that came from the paper-thin walls surrounding her and it made her nostalgic. She recognized what she saw. She was in a hospital.

Meaning she was safe.

Meaning someone had either saved her or this was another dream where she would wake up to darkness.

But it couldn't be a dream, she rationalized. No dream could be this perceptive; this real.

When she tried to sit up, a hand lashed out and she flinched, instinctively snapping her head down and waiting for the blow which would jar her brain in her head and leave her breathing in the slushy residue of snow that littered the ground in her dingy cell.

But nothing happened and instead the hand gently touched her shoulder.

"You're awake... that's good. Winry, I need you to lie back down, alright? Come on, lie down..."

She opened her eyes slowly and gazed into the relieved, but apprehensive, gold eyes of Edward Elric. Her body acted before her mind: her arms wrapped around his neck, mumbling things he could barely hear as he sighed and slowly wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

There was a strange numbing that quickly wore off the more she moved but she didn't care, even as sharp pains began to blossom in her upper face and spread down her body.

"Don't move too much," Ed murmured, gently pulling her head back with his hand. "Your jaw's dislocated and it still needs healing."

"Dislocated?" she slurred and he nodded, a thin smile on his face.

"That... that bastard nearly broke it." His voice broke abruptly, eyes blaze with poorly concealed rage. "He broke some ribs too. That fucking bastard..." She kept holding onto him, even as he dropped his hand to grip the metal rail which prevented her from falling out.

His hand nearly dented it.

"Brother, it's time to go. Visiting hours are—oh!"

She raised her drug-clouded eyes, smiling when she saw Al standing by the door. But she was more surprised by his lack-of-metal-container-of-a-body. Instead, she saw a chubby boy with rusted gold eyes and light gold hair. He was wearing a traditional business outfit without the vest and she knew that she should not be surprised: the professional look just suited Al.

"Winry!" He rushed over to her, scooting close to his brother as Ed pushed Winry back down on her bed. She didn't want to, that much was evident, but she gave in in order to appease the brothers.

She reached down and prodded her side, hissing when she felt the developing bruise. "That's gonna' hurt when I walk," she frowned when her words came out all distorted. "Ugh. Stupid jaw..." She touched the numbed swelled spot on her jaw and sighed through her nose.

Her eyes flickered to her side instinctively, where she noticed _her _absence_._

"What...? Melanie?" Winry frowned, the best she could with her jaw feeling nonexistent. "Where is she? Ed, Al?" She didn't like the grim looks on their faces nor the way Ed was clenching his fist.

"Who's Melanie?" Ed asked first.

"My cell partner," she responded, and his eyes flashed with something dark.

"We didn't find her, Win," Alphonse said gently. "We only managed to save a couple of people before Drachmian soldiers overwhelmed us... she wasn't one of them, as far as we could tell. She wasn't with you when brother rescued you, was she?"

"No..." Winry slowly shook her head, eyes starting to water. "But you don't get it. You don't know what they're going to do to her!" She sucked in a breath. "T-They've already d-done so many things to her... I-I think they... they.. oh no.." Winry paled, as her worst fear arose again."If.. if she's pregnant." She clutched the sheets, listening to the new technology that was a heart rate monitor by her side soar with her heartbeat. "Oh, no. They're going to... going to.."

_A scream tore the building._

"_What type of surgery are they preforming?"_

"_Abortion."_

She instinctively ducked her head down, tried to take in deep breathes to calm her racing heart.

"They're not going to do anything to her, Win, she'll be alright!" Ed reassured, tentatively reaching out to touch her shoulder. She tensed at his touch.

"That's...not true," Winry choked, her eyes watering. "If she is...if she becomes preg—they're going... to kill the baby." She had a brief flash of her full body; how her stomach looked a little bigger; a little more swelled out. How she thought that maybe Melanie had been hiding something from her...could it be?

The silence was thick.

"H-How could they?" Al dared to ask. "They wouldn't do...something like that to a woman..."

"Hah," she breathed bitterly. "I wish I could still think that." Winry swallowed, getting lost in the memory she had with the other people, spies, who had been captured long before; months before the war between Briggs.

She remembered that woman's screams all too vividly.

"_What type of surgery are they preforming?"_

"_Abortion."_

Winry tried to swallow down the heave. Her stomach felt strangely empty but not hunger-empty. "They... cut them open. And I guess they take out—take out the fetus before sewing them back up again... I-I don't think they use any type of anesthesia or sedater. They just do it."

Al looked horrified. "How could someone do that to a person?"

Winry shrugged, over the fact that such horrors could exist. "Its war."

Ed sneered and stood, kicking the stool he was sitting on.

He ran a hand down his face.

Alphonse gazed sadly at him, then steeled his eyes and looked at Winry.

"Did they... we need to know, did they ever touch you, Winry?" Alphonse forced himself to ask. "The doctors told us much but we still need to make sure, just in case. You're really weak so they can't really diagnose—

"What the _fuck_ are you asking, Al?" Ed snarled, sending his brother a burning look. "She didn't get raped! She didn't! The doctor told us there was no... no sign of penetration or-or disease or anything!"

"But that doesn't mean she wasn't—" He didn't even finish the statement, a greenish hue on his face.

"I-I wasn't raped," Winry whispered, not daring to look up into Ed's eyes. "They—they tried a lot of times but I didn't let myself. There was this officer there who refused to have hostages sexually taken advantage of." She pressed firmly on her jaw so she could speak clearer. "But they didn't really care. They mostly did whatever they wanted to us. M-Melanie..." Winry whimpered. "She... made a deal with one of the soldiers. I-I think she took most of the rapes for me. She was gone an awful lot. Sometimes she wouldn't be back for hours."

"I see. We'll have to thank her when we meet her," Al smiled comfortingly, sadly. He patted her hand. "We'll find her, Winry. No matter what, we'll find her."

Ed spat viciously, hands balled into fists as he paced up and down the length of the room. Soon, he roared out a curse and punched a hole straight through the wall. When his hand came back, dots of blood splashed on the linoleum floor.

_Wasn't that...his right arm? _She thought quietly, a little confused. _His automail arm?_

Her eyes strayed to the dots of blood.

Automail did not bleed.

Her eyes widened in realization.

"Brother!" Al gasped, concerned as more drops trickled from the wound on his knuckles. "You—!"

"I need air." Ed stormed out the room, the thirst for vengeance spelled out in his rigid posture and fisted hands.

"Brother..." Al whispered sorrowfully.

"Go after him," Winry said softly, the familiar sense of fear sprouting within her again; for different reasons this time around. "Please, don't let him do anything reckless." She sunk into her stiff mattress and pulled the stiff sheets over her mouth. "Please tell him to come back." Her eyes strayed to the dark edging in the horizon. "I don't like the dark..."

Alphonse didn't hesitate to rush out of the room, yells of "I'm sorry! I'll be right back!" ringing in her ears as the pain in her ribs became sharp with every breath.

She didn't sleep that night.


	5. Restart

**5 Second Countdown  
_by. _**_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_05: Restart_

* * *

_01 week, 08 hours, 05 seconds later_

In order for things to get better they must first get worse.

Winry hadn't heard more truer words than those as she slowly stood, letting the cold from the tiles seep into her toes. She shuddered, remembering exactly how freezing her own cell had been during those times in captivity.

This was actually warm compared to that.

Her thought-to-be-broken-arm turned out to be a severe shoulder dislocation and her body was healing up slowly and painfully. With the food and vitamin supplements they had been subjecting her body to, she was slowly but surely regaining her strength although she wanted to be up and walking already.

She had never been the most patient person in the world.

Which was why, an hour before visiting hours began, she was trying to stand up by herself.

She wanted out already. The hospital room made her feel claustrophobic. Besides, she wanted to try and find Melanie. She wanted to rescue her from the beating she would most likely receive for her absence...

She checked the clock, frowning when she noticed she only had twenty minutes to try and test out her legs. She had a deep-set bruise scaling from her upper thigh to her knee when the doctors managed to properly diagnose her. They told her it wasn't anything that couldn't heal within a few weeks, thankfully.

She had enough strength to be looked over critically now, to her relief and annoyance.

She had bruises and sores all over her body and her hands hurt a lot if they didn't drug her up every few hours. The doctors had told her that she was still at risk of losing a few fingers so they needed to monitor how her hand was doing closely for the next few days. She had suffered a severe case of frostbite, the very thing she had dreaded from the beginning.

What made it worse was the fact that it was her _right _hand that had the most damage; the hand she used to write with, to screw in bolts with, to measure with.

It was her dominate hand.

Now what would she do if she lost it?

She wasn't left handed. She didn't want to spend hours upon hours learning how to write with her left hand although, she thought with a sigh, she supposed she would _have _to if something went wrong in the healing process and her right hand became invalid...

She didn't notice the door open until she was on her feet, unsteady, but at least able to stand. Her legs felt weak and wobbly so she didn't risk taking that first step. She needed to be slow and careful. Her grandmother would smack her on the head with her infamous pipe if she rushed her recovery and ended up making herself sick or worse.

"You shouldn't be walking around like that, you know."

"But look!" Winry smiled, looking up into Ed's eyes. She had been expecting him. The creaky door had been fixed by Al so it didn't creak anymore a day ago. "I can stand now! My feet kind of hurt though..." She sat back down and rolled her good shoulder a bit to straighten out a kink. "I want to go out already. It's so boring in here!"

"You can't until the doctors give you the OK," Ed reminded, bringing up the stool he always used and sitting next to her. Winry slowly pushed her legs back under the sheets and smiled up at Ed.

Ever since he had blown up on them and thundered out of the hospital, intent on murdering every single Drachmian soldier who had had their way with her, he had become calmer, less-impatient, and even went as far as staying with her until visiting hours were over nearly everyday.

It was comforting, to say the least.

It also creeped her out a little, not used to seeing such a patient Ed, but the feeling was thrown out the window when she noticed he controlled his temper by taking deep breaths and no doubt counting to ten in his head.

It had become a game to irritate him until he blew up.

So far, he was winning...

"How's Al doing?"

"As fine as he can be with all that damn work," he rolled his eyes. "He's sorting out the rescued P.O.W. or something." Ed paused. "Or sleeping."

"You mean you don't know what he's doing?"

Ed shrugged. "He's apart of so much crap nowadays its a pain to keep up with whatever new organization he's joined." Ed scratched his forehead in thought. "I know he's apart of some cat adoption organization...just as long as he doesn't adopt one himself, I don't care."

Winry giggled, reaching over to grab her cup of water. Her sore arm restricted movement and her jaw was still aching due to the morning cold, distracting her a little, so it wasn't really a surprise Ed had gotten to it before she did and handed it to her.

"You know, you should really stop doing things for me," she said, as she sipped the water carefully. "I have to move around or else rehabilitation will hurt more," she humored, smile faltering when his eyes became darker, shading into a deep gold that glowed under the early morning sunlight.

He looked down, at his right hand, which was still bandaged, and muttered: "Right..."

Winry swallowed, groping for something to talk to; something lighthearted and _not _related to the nightmare she had been apart of. "Um... how-how is granny? I haven't been able to contact her since they don't let me out of the room."

Ed looked up. The darkness in his eyes had lightened but she could see that last shred of self-containment that was slowly tearing as they spoke.

She wouldn't be surprised if he suddenly stood up and walked out of the room for a bit.

He did it a lot.

He had the courtesy to make up an excuse she saw right through before he left.

That comforted her a bit; he was rational enough to come up with an excuse which meant he was rational enough not to do something he would regret.

"She's fine. She closed up the shop yesterday and she's coming over here to look you over herself. She said she doesn't trust Central doctors."

"Does she know..?"

"Yeah," Ed frowned. He took a slow breath. "She was the first person informed when you went missing. She—she called us a couple of hours later... why didn't you tell us?" He rose his eyes, accusation sparking within them. "Why didn't you tell us that you were going to Briggs? How could you have just have _gone _without telling us? What the hell compelled you to think that going to war was a damn good idea!"

"Well, you never tell me anything!" Winry countered lamely.

"That has nothing to do with this!" Ed shouted, sending the stool tumbling back. "You already _knew _what we were doing! You already _knew _what our goal was so there was no real need to tell you where we were because you already _knew _why! We didn't _know! _"

Winry didn't say anything. She clutched the sheets between her fingers, shame making her shoulders slump.

He was right: she did know why they left and she mostly never questioned why they ended up in Dublith or Lior or Eastern City – she knew it was because, somehow, they had gotten leads regarding that cursed stone.

She already knew.

They never knew.

She never told them.

In a way, she had decided to keep her attendance a secret from them as retaliation for everything they kept from her.

She supposed it was stupid.

But wasn't eqivalent exchange kind of stupid?

"G-Granny was going to go and I won't let any else die because of some dumb war!" Winry croaked, taking a shuddering breath. She wouldn't cry. Not now. "I had no choice in the matter, anyways. I'm already a certified doctor and they would have drafted me in the instant I turned eighteen. So I just decided I might as well join now while I still had a choice than dwell on it and be forced into it!" she ended fiercely.

"No," Ed sneered. "We wouldn't have _let_ you! We would have asked Mustang to refrain from letting you join, Winry! We would have everything humanly possible to keep you from joining!"

She was quiet for a moment. "... I would have still gone..."

Ed stared, incredulously. "_What?_"

"I would have still gone," Winry repeated, louder; staring dead-on into his incensed eyes. "They needed us. It would have been selfish to not go just because I-I could _die _out there. There's always a risk in everything and... I saved so many people while I was there. I wouldn't change that for the world, even if it got me to where I am now." She fingered her sore jaw thoughtfully. "At least I can say that my parents... would have been proud of me."

Ed's stare became darker, if possible. "... You're an idiot."

"Maybe," she chuckled weakly.

He suddenly reached forward and drew her close to him, carefully avoiding her jaw as he laid his chin on the crown of her head without a shift in his dark expression. She clung to his midsection like a child. He didn't say anything when he felt tears soak through his shirt and he pretended he didn't hear the soft "mom and dad" as she cried.

"Stop crying, you dumbass," Ed mumbled, patting her head fondly. "You promised you'd only cry tears of joy, remember? That promise still stands."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I broke our promise. You're right, this is stupid. I shouldn't be crying." She tried to lift her head but he prevented her. He wiped away her tears with the back of his hand a bit brusquely, a faint dust of red across his cheeks once he regained some control of his shaky emotions.

"You're still crying," he sighed, when her eyes watered even more. "I'm crap with tears, Win, you know that. That's probably the reason I made that promise with you..." he muttered under his breath, although he knew fairly well it was because when she hurt, he hurt too.

Winry chuckled. "I wondered about that. I guess I was right afterall, huh?" She brought her hand up and wiped away her remaining tears. Her cheeks felt a bit hot, as Ed never let his eyes stray from her face, and she cursed the brand-new machine that recorded each rapid beat.

"You're hearts going crazy," Ed humored, squinting his eyes. "What're you thinking about?"

Winry slapped him on the arm. "Shuddup! I'm not some perverted guy, you know!"

"I never said that—oof!" Ed stepped back when she punched him this time, grinning wryly. "Now that's the Winry I remember."

Her heart kept racing. Winry tried her best to calm it down. "You're so irritating!"

"Hey, don't say that," Ed smiled, fixing the stool upright so he could sit on it. "I'm the one keeping you company everyday."

Her eyes softened and her annoyance faded. She placed her hand on her lap and smiled slightly, almost guiltily. "Yeah, you're right... I must be taking up a lot of your time, huh? Sorry... you know, you don't have to stay here with me—if you're bored you can go out and—"

"I want to stay here with you," Ed cut her off, clearing his throat right after and turning away to hide his pink face. "I mean, I chose to keep you company and all. You're not forcing me to do anything. I just—uh, want to stay, " he stuttered, pink turning red.

"Thanks. I could really use the company," she laughed, gazing down at her hands. "I'm a little paranoid when the doctors come in to check me up or people visit me." She had only had a total of five visitors and two of those had been Ed and Al.

Mustang and Hawkeye had come to visit her as well and asked her a few questions regarding her captivity. It was grim, having to revisit memories she'd rather bury, but it had to be done sometime and she knew there was no whining out of it. The last had been Sciezska, who had brought along a pile of automail books in her wake to keep Winry occupied in the dead of night, when she couldn't sleep as smirking grins and bloody wounds plagued her dreams.

"The doctors tell me you haven't been sleeping well," Ed spoke up, startling her out of her thoughts.

"They have?"

"They monitor you, you know," Ed frowned, eyes downcast in a little embarrassment. "I ask them for updates on your status daily and they tell me that you haven't been getting proper sleep."

"But I have!" Winry huffed. "I've been sleeping a lot, actually! I'm starting to think I'm becoming lazy..."

"Three hours a night doesn't count as 'a lot', Winry," he said quietly, making her smile slowly fade.

Winry stared at the stark white sheets, reminded of her stark white coat that all-too-soon became soiled with blood, dirt, and death.

"Okay, so I haven't been sleeping a lot," she admitted, "but I'm not sleepy so it's alright. I can't force myself to sleep, you know."

"You look like you could sleep right now."

"No, I don't," she mumbled, turning away from his scrutinizing gaze.

"Winry, I can _always_ tell when you're lying," Ed chuckled, heaving a sigh. "You get all..._shy_ and stuff when you lie."

"Thanks for the tip," she muttered, the tips of her ears going red, before whispering: "They stopped giving me pain pills."

"You don't need them anymore, do you?" His voice was strained. "If you're in pain then I could go tell them—!"

"I mean, since they stopped giving me pills, I've stopped sleeping." Her eyes drooped. There was no going around it, really... "A common side-effect for these types of pills is usually drowsiness. It's what helped me sleep most of the time.."

There was silence.

"You don't _want _to sleep, do you?"

Winry swallowed, starting to feel cornered. "It's not that, it's just that—"

"No, it is. You relied on those pills—you _drugged _yourself to sleep."

She couldn't stand the way his voice just sounded so wounded, so angry, so _accusing_. "No I didn't! They just helped me fall asleep faster without waking up in the middle of the night or early in the morning or—!"

"Or they stopped you from dreaming," Ed added stonily, making her falter.

"I..."

"I know, Winry," he said, quietly. She stole a glance, catching the way his eyes became recluse and distant. His shoulders slumped. "I can understand not wanting to sleep because of the things you see."

She felt her eyes water and she irritatingly thought that there was no reason for tears. They were just dreams! They meant nothing! They were just images drudged up from her subconscious; things she feared the most and things that would never _ever _happen again because Ed wouldn't let them happen.

He promised.

And so long as he promised, she was alright.

Right?

Her shoulders shook and she found, annoyingly, that she was freely crying again. She heard shifting and felt a hand touch her shoulder. She fell into the touch as she watched the sun high above the sky through the corner of her eye.

Night would come soon.

Ed would have to leave.

She would be alone again and she would once more try to sleep only to feel the menacing ghost touches on her skin and hear the frightening scrape of blades on stone; taunting her with the implications. Then she would get fed up with those sensory touches and turn on the light and pick up a book and immerse herself in it until dawn, where she would sleep for a few hours before automatically waking up at 9, waiting for Ed to show up and greet her.

It was a process she had fallen into.

They didn't speak of this again until visiting hours were over and Ed reluctantly left. She watched him slowly exit, stealing a glance from over his shoulder, before closing the door and leaving her shrouded in darkness.

Despite the lights from outside, Winry still felt scared of the little darkness that loomed over her. She quickly turned on the lamp by her nightstand and struggled to wedge out a heavy book on surgery from under her bed when the door opened again.

She froze, blood running cold, before remembering she was in a hospital and no one could hurt her. Her hands were still shaky, however.

"Jeez, so this is what you do when I leave you all by yourself? Honestly, I know _I _stayed up all night reading but I didn't think I was _that_ bad of an influence on you!" Ed complained. "You were the one who kept calling me a geek, too. Can't say that now, can you?"

She pushed herself back into the bed with a surprised gasp. "Ed, what are you still doing here? Visiting hours are over! Do you want the nurse to kick you out again?"

Ed grinned, however, holding out a blanket triumphantly. "I get to stay with you today!" he sang out. He fell back into a chair that was by the far wall after he pushed it close to her bed, propping his feet up on the stool.

Winry openly gaped. "What! Ed, there is no way you could stay—!"

"Yes, I can because I pulled rank on them and like hell am I going to leave you alone. It's bad enough I've been doing it for the past few days!" Ed huffed, crossing his arms stubbornly. "So just suck it up – you aren't gonna' get me to leave that easily!"

"What about Al?" she persisted.

"What about him?" he dismissed. "He won't be back until around one in the morning – he's got some convention to attend somewhere out by downtown so it won't really matter."

"Won't he find it a bit suspicious when he discovers you aren't there?" she eyed him.

"Nah, he doesn't check up on me anymore," he shrugged. "He just passes out either on the couch or the bed; whichever one he reaches first."

"Oh." Winry worried her bottom lip. "You two... you two don't share bedrooms anymore?"

"Nope," Ed shook his head. "I broke him out of that habit a couple of months ago. I told him that if he ever got a girlfriend, I doubt she'd find it attractive that he still slept in the same room as his older brother." He grinned slyly, earning a look of mock-anger from Winry. "Ate that up like the pie you bake!"

"Ed, that wasn't very nice! You know how sensitive Al is about that!" She laughed nonetheless, glad to see Ed had not lost his mischievous streak.

"He'll get over it," he snorted. "But I guess I'll always have _someone _sleeping with me," he half-smiled. "At least you're a girl..."

"Whats that suppose to mean?" she raised a teasing brow.

"Nothing..." he mumbled back, cheeks red, bringing the blanket up to his chin and sinking into the chair.

"I think it means _something_," she pressed, massaging her jaw as it was starting to hurt from speaking so much. She had figured out this method where she would sort of lock her jaw lightly to the left and she could speak for hours without it hurting so badly.

Even though it slurred some words, it was better than having a constant pain in her face and having to refrain from speaking what she wanted to because of the pain.

"Is your jaw hurting?" Ed asked with concern, frowning when she shook her head and dropped her hand.

"It's nothing. It always hurts, even with the stuff they give me to calm the pain," she assured, trying to her best to smile and relieve that stern look on his face.

He nodded slowly, averting his gaze for a moment to regain his composure. Winry was always sure not to bring up the nightmare she had lived through – it often led to one pissed off Edward Elric or killed the companionable atmosphere completely.

"You're not actually going to sleep on a chair, are you?" Winry asked, after a few seconds of silence.

"I'll sleep on the extra bed next door," Ed answered. "It's empty today and they just cleaned the sheets. The nurse said I was allowed to sleep there for the time being."

Somehow, this made her heart drop.

So he really _wasn't _going to sleep with her...

Her face heated up.

At least, not in the same room.

What the heck was she thinking? He wouldn't even fit on the same bed with her!

Not that...she wanted him to sleep beside her...not really.

She brushed these thoughts off. "Oh."

"So, go to sleep," Ed demanded, chuckling at the peeved look he received. "C'mon, Win, you gotta' sleep sometime and I'm not leaving until I see you drooling." He snatched the book from her hand without warning, dropping it unceremoniously on the ground and kicking it under her bed despite her protests.

"Hey! Watch it!"

"Its just a book," he rolled his eyes. "It'll live. Now go to sleep!"

"Be patient!" she growled. "Sleeping isn't just like flicking a switch, you know!"

"Wish it was," Ed muttered under his breath.

Winry shot him a glare and said: "And I do _not_ drool! You do, though."

"I do not!" he scowled.

"Do too! Obviously you haven't seen yourself sleep, Ed, you drool so much you always leave a huge stain on the pillow!" she grinned smugly at his embarrassment.

Ed reddened. "Oh, yeah? At least I'm not the one—!" He stopped abruptly, eyes lighting up with realization. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes! Don't wait up for me if you can help it!" He flung the blanket off him and dashed out the door, leaving her in stunned silence with his sudden departure as the door slam echoed through the room.

A few minutes turned out to be half an hour, in which Winry was left alone in the room, staring at the wall opposite to her and trying hard not to think about Melanie and what might be happening to her...

When Ed did come back, she was glad for the distraction, as her thoughts had begun to venture into territory she was still not ready to face without bursting into tears or having some sort of anxiety attack.

"I think I have something that might help you sleep," he said slowly, swallowing nervously. "They're not pills but I remember you telling me that you slept with it all the time... it's just a substitute since I don't know where yours is but, well, uh—"

"Just spit it out," she demanded, trying to peek at what he had hidden behind him. "What is it?"

"Just—here!" he shoved something heavy and shiny into her lap. She stared long and hard when she saw it was a wrench – the latest one, too, from the ridges on the handle and the adjustable dials on the top. It had no scratches, held that distinct new-metal smell unlike her old wrench, and felt nice and smooth under her palm. The weight was comforting, the cold further adding to this consolation, and she couldn't believe Edward had remembered such an insignificant fact like that...

She gave it a squeeze with her left hand, eyes saddening when she noticed her left was a bit sloppy and uncoordinated, unlike her right although that was hurt too much to actually move. The bandages wrapped tightly, but not as thickly, around her hand prevented her from further inspecting the tool but she didn't mind; she was just happy to have something to remind her of her old life back in her hands.

Her old life...

She wondered if she would ever be able to pick up a surgical tool without seeing that soldier's lifeless eyes flash behind the lids of her eyes.

"You don't know..." she whispered, softly placing the wrench on her lap. "...how much this really means to me, Ed. T-thank you." Her eyes felt watery again and she cursed her emotional instability as a light emotions settled in her chest.

Every little thing made her cry now.

But the emotion was welcomed. It felt nice, to feel something other than despair, and she quietly tried to describe the emotion in her head; to try and focus on it so she could remember how it felt...because she had taken too many things for granted and this had been realized during her short-lived captivity.

"You... you're welcomed," Ed coughed, sitting back down on his chair.

"That's a first," Winry chuckled, stealing a look at Ed. "You've never said something so formal to me like that before."

Ed looked away in response, a scoff lacing his next words: "Whatever; Al's been rubbing off on me. You'll sleep better now, though, right?"

Winry smiled warmly, that light emotion converting into something bigger, heavier, and seemingly making bliss course through her veins; heightening the sense of elation "I think so."

She actually slept that night.

* * *

_**A/N: **_Yay, this chapter isn't as angsty as the last couple! I can also safely say that we're about half-way through with this fiction. Okay, that's a lie: we're about sixty five percent done. There's one last loose end I have to knot ;D

Please review!

_Scarlett._


	6. Betrayal

**5 Second Countdown  
_by. _**_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_06: Betrayal_

* * *

_01 week, 03 days, 06 hours, 12 seconds later_

Her granny had been devastated.

The visit had turned out worse than she had imagined and her grandmother just very nearly lost consciousness when she first saw her. Winry didn't think she looked that bad but she couldn't be sure – she was so used to seeing herself in such a bad state that it no longer bothered her.

But it bothered her grandmother, who couldn't believe so much damage had been inflicted upon her during such a short time-span. Winry needn't correct her: she had been a special case. Usually the beatings came in after a week or so but as someone had divulged information regarding her, the soldiers were particularly hasty to get the information they wanted.

Most of it pertained to Ed and, even though she prided herself in knowing just about everything of the boy, having grown up with him and all, she was still left in the dark about a lot of things.

The things they had asked related to his alchemical skill and knowledge, things which had never interested her before and now she was glad they didn't.

It would have been harder to keep her mouth shut if she knew.

Winry touched her numbed jaw and sighed, shutting the book on her lap. Ed wouldn't be here with her today – he had something to do with Roy Mustang but he had promised to be in by nightfall. He had been sleeping next door to her for the past few days and it was a comfort to know he was right there, beside her, keeping her safe despite the shadows which morphed themselves into those frightening images of her tormentors.

The door opened and she looked up, surprised to see Alphonse come in. He smiled brightly, commenting on her appearance politely. It was nothing negative – he even said she was getting back the usual twinkle in her eyes and her skin wasn't so corpse white anymore.

"Here, I got you these from the store while I was coming here!" Al chirped, handing her a box of chocolates. She smiled, taking the box with a bandaged hand.

"Milk chocolate," she laughed, delightedly. "You remembered!"

"Brother never stopped ranting about it," Al chuckled sheepishly. "He kept whining about your lack-of-taste when it came to chocolate."

"I like the original," she said stubbornly. "Not that dark chocolate stuff they're coming up with nowadays."

"Well, you know brother..." Al trailed off with a shake of his head, a small smile on his face.

"He always has to be against me," she giggled, popping open the box and tossing a bite-sized candy into her mouth. "Thanks, Al. That was very thoughtful of you."

"I thought you'd like it!" Al beamed. "You have to get tired of the hospital food, right?"

"Its not as bad as Ed makes it out to be," Winry replied, eating another chocolate. The only bad part of hospital food was the portions. They hardly filled her up at all.

"Ah, Winry..."

She looked up, brows scrunching when she saw his troubled face. "What is it, Al...?"

"That girl you spoke about—Melanie," Al cleared his throat. Winry lost her appetite at the sound of her name. "We just got news of her location and, well—"

"Where is she?" Winry asked, urgently. "Where is she? Is she okay? Please tell me she's okay, Alphonse!"

"She's okay!" Al reassured, quickly. "Don't worry – we've verified that she is safe and sound."

"Oh, oh good," Winry sighed in relief. "Where is she? Is there any way I could see her?"

Al instantly got nervous. Winry felt dread glue to the pit of her stomach. "Alphonse...?"

"She's...still in Drachma."

"But...then how could she be safe?"

"She ran into an Amestrian spy," Al explained slowly."He's trying his best to smuggle her out without causing an uproar, so it'll be a few more hours before we get the OK to pick her up."

_Pick her up? _She thought, dropping her eyes to the bedsheets...

_Ed smiled, tensely. "Hey, Winry, I won't be here tomorrow. You're on your own for the day...but I'll be back by nightfall! I promise!" His sentence was unusually sloppy, pitched with highs and lows, and she didn't need to think twice to know what he was really nervous._

_Or lying._

"_Where are you going?" she asked, frowning._

"_Oh, just something Mustang wants me to do," he replied dismissively, avoiding her eyes. "It's nothing, really. He's just being a bastard again, you know?"_

"_Uh huh..."_

Winry gasped with realization. "Is he...?"

Al smiled warily. "Yeah, he decided to take on the mission."

She felt fear grip her heart, as a thousand images of the tortures Ed could go through should he get caught rushed through her mind. "But...he'll be okay, right? It's not—he won't—he promised to be back before nightfall..."

"He'll be fine," Al assured softly, patting her leg to calm her. Winry swallowed the lump in her throat. "Brother can complete this with no problem at all! I trust him."

"I-I do too but...its just..." Winry dropped her gaze to her hands. She tightened her grip on the sheets. "They want him. That was why they interrogated me so much.."

"He'll only be picking her up," Al informed, as if that would assure her of his safety. "Its not like he'll be infiltrating the base like we did with you. That was too risky and we almost lost a few men due to it...but he was determined to get you back before...you know..." Al trailed, uncomfortable, and Winry understood completely. Being taken as Prisoner of War was no easy matter – there were worse things than death, as that man had cruelly stated.

"Okay...thanks for telling me," Winry said gratefully. Al nodded, happy to be of service. He glanced at the clock overhead and gasped.

"Oh no! I'm late for my meeting!" Al quickly gave Winry a hug and rushed to the door. "I'll try to come by tomorrow; I have a book convention I have to attend. I'll see you later, Winry! Take care!"

"Bye, Al..." Winry whispered a minute too late.

The silence in the room was too much for her all of a sudden.

She pushed the book off her lap and let it fall on the floor, the thump offering some sort of noise in the vast nothingness that abounded her.

Ed would be okay.

He promised to be back.

He _would_ be okay.

Winry sunk into the sheets; sunlight doing nothing to brighten the shadows that blanketed her heart.

* * *

_01 week, 04 days, 00 hours, 34 seconds later_

There was a chilling breeze coming from the window beside her. Winry was sitting on the chair, gazing out the window, unable to sleep without the knowledge of Ed being there to keep her from harms way.

She knew it was a bad habit to fall into – because then she'd _always _need him, or someone, there with her in order for her to fall sleep – but it was just something out of her control.

She was already sick with worry, it'd only induce even worse nightmares if she tried to sleep.

She touched her bare knee, the cold making her recoil. In fact, as she touched her arms, her face, her neck, all of her was freezing. Winry slowly stood up, still a little unsteady on her feet, and made her way back to the bed, slipping underneath the covers slowly.

Her aching jaw prevented her from sleeping on her side, so sleeping on her back was the only way to really get a nights rest. It was bad for her, being a side-sleeper, which added to the ever-growing list of obstacles that prevented her from having a good nights sleep.

She closed her eyes and, despite the trembles that wracked her body, tried to sleep. She was used to sleeping under such cold conditions – this was actually warm compared to what she had to go through – but he wasn't there to watch her sleep...

He wasn't there to assure her that nothing would happen.

She was hesitant to fall asleep but eventually sleep did come, although she was sure she'd jolt awake a few minutes later just like before, when Edward hadn't suggested he spend the nights over with her to make sure she got her hours.

Winry was hanging onto the last few threads of consciousness when the sound of a door clicking open roused her slightly.

It wasn't enough to wake her, as her eyes felt like blocks of lead, but the familiar off-set footsteps that stopped by her bedside were enough to warn her of who it was.

She almost thought it was a dream, until she heard Al's hissing whisper that they were going to get caught and be in so much trouble for breaking and entering a hospital.

"Pipe down, Al," she heard Ed hiss back. "If you keep makin' so much noise then we really _will _get caught!"

"Just _please_ hurry, brother!"

She vaguely heard Ed softly scoff out "wuss" under his breath.

The sick worry in her stomach cleared when she awoke enough to know it wasn't a dream and Edward had really kept his promise and came to visit her; even if it was brief and she didn't have enough will power to welcome him back – sleep stubbornly trying to sink her back into the calm waters of unconsciousness.

She felt the sheets rise up to her chin before another, heavier, sheet fell over her. It took her a moment to realize it couldn't be a sheet, because of the fur that tickled her lips, but a coat.

With a simple pat on her head, she heard Ed's uneven footsteps leave the room.

Her hand touched the material draped over her and brought it up to cuddle her face, his scent a pleasure to inhale as sleep clouded her thoughts and she finally fell into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

_01 week, 04 days, 10 hours, 21 seconds later_

"You're going to have to tell her sometime," Alphonse said with a sigh, as he and his brother stood just outside Winry's door. Edward was leaning against the door, gazing at the opposite wall with an expression close to murder.

"Not yet," Edward muttered, dropping his searing gaze with a shake of his head. "She's barely starting to revert back to normal, and now I dump this on her? It'll make her worse."

"There wouldn't be much of a difference," Al argued softly. "She would suffer even if you gave her a whole other two months. She might as well try to cope with it now, as she is coping with the trauma she went through when she was captured."

Ed's jaw clenched, the tendon jumping in response. He didn't reply as he contemplated his brothers words. He had a point. Winry would be heartbroken regardless of when he told her but he _did_ have a reason to believe it was too early to dump this on her.

She had just begun to smile and act normally. She had just begun to not jump at every sound she heard; not flinch when the door opened; not stay awake until the very early hours of the night because of the nightmares that plagued her.

"She's going to be eighteen, Ed," Al coaxed gently. "She's almost an adult now; you can't protect her from everything—"

"But I can try," Ed stated, abruptly flinging the door open and walking in to avoid further discussion.

Al sighed and followed him, as Winry turned away from the early morning horizon. Al noticed she was gripping a red coat and he saw that it was the coat his brother had been wearing when they came to visit her earlier that day, at around four am in the morning.

_Brother left his coat with her? _Al blinked, surprised. He stole a glance at his brother, who was standing stiffly beside him, and allowed a small smirk to grace his face. _That's so cute! Brother cares!_

Ed noticed the starry-eyed look in his brothers eyes and sent him a weird look.

Al merely shook his head at him, regaining his focus.

"Ed, Al," she greeted, with a small smile that reached her eyes. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Winry!" Al greeted back, a little weakly when he remembered this was going to go downhill very fast.

"'Morning, Win," Ed grumbled, and Winry rolled her eyes at his grumpiness.

"What are you doing here so early?" Winry asked Al, who shifted uncomfortably. "You usually don't drop by in the mornings...and didn't you have some convention to attend to today? You were talking about it last time you came..."

"I still have an hour," Al replied quietly, fidgeting with the button on his shirt.

Winry's smile slowly faded. She knew those looks – the way Ed was glaring daggers at her bedpost and the way Al had that apologetic smile on his face.

She knew something was wrong.

Immediately, her insides chilled and she felt her stomach grow sick once more.

"What...happened?" she asked, fearing the worst.

"It-it's nothing bad!" Al tried to comfort, catching the fearful expression that fleeted her face. "I mean, it could be considered bad but I think it's a really good thing! Um, well, you see—!"

"We found Melanie," Edward cut to the chase.

The change in the young mechanic was immediate: the stress lines cleared and her eyes flooded with relief. "Oh, thank goodness she's okay! Where is she? Is she hurt? Is she somewhere in the hospital?"

Edward looked more grim. "She's just fine."

Winry licked her dry lips. What was wrong then? "I don't understand, what's wrong with that?"

"Winry," Al began gently, "she was sort of..."

"She was having an affair with a Drachmian soldier while in captivity," Ed revealed, tonelessly. "It turned out the guy was actually a double-agent; he was sending information to Briggs secretly and its because of him we have the upper hand in the war right now." He pulled on a sardonic smile. "It didn't work out too well when they discovered the little tryst, though. They nearly had both of them on firing squad for it."

"If brother hadn't gone when he did," Al sighed, brows creased, "she would have died."

Winry didn't move for a good while.

She stared at them both, in disbelief, before slowly lowering her eyes to her bedsheets. She recalled the cruel actions of the soldier – the slaps, the kicks, the sneers, the looks of disgust – and felt her eyes water against her will.

There was a sudden impaling of betrayal that caught her right in the heart and shook her to her core.

_She was hiding something from me, _she thought, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. She didn't notice she was crying until drops plopped on the sheets below her. She gripped them tightly between bone-white hands, the despair overwhelmed by the amount of rage that quickly filled her.

The tantamount ire was deep, borderline hatred, but it was meshed with sorrow, dissolving it into nothing more than a spurt of scorn that only lasted a few seconds before apathy made her shoulders slump.

"Where is she right now?" Winry asked, emptily.

"She's in the waiting room," Al supplied. "She wants to see you and—"

"Tell her to go away. I don't want to see her." Winry slumped back against the headboard, her hurt gaze outside.

"But, Winry—!"

"Go, Alphonse." She used his full name to notify that she was serious. She heard his hesitant steps stop at the door frame before the door shut quietly. She did not hear any sounds for at least a minute, when her own sharp intake of breath sliced through the silence.

"I didn't want to tell you," Ed said after he was sure Al had left.

"I'm glad you did," she replied, a little gruffly. Her eyes stung some more. "It's okay...I always thought there was something wrong with the way he kept coming back to get her. It just—hurts that she hid it from me...and that she didn't stop him." There was a flash of rage, a flash of pain, in her eyes. "That's all."

Her eyes over flooded with tears and they slowly slid down her cheeks.

It wasn't as bad as it had been at the camps.

At least here they were trailing down slowly, not in torrents, and she was silently weeping, and not screaming.

"Stop crying, you baby," she heard Ed say softly. "You shouldn't be crying anymore, remember?" The mattress sunk with his weight. Winry rose her hands to wipe her eyes but this only served to make more rain down.

"I-I'm sorry...I just...can't.." she hiccuped and dug the heel of her palm into her eyes. They only soaked through. "Stop."

"Everything is gonna' be fine," Ed whispered. "Please stop crying, Winry." There was an urgency in his whisper, a guilt she didn't understand. But she knew him well enough to know he blamed himself for the mess she got herself in. He probably twisted up the story very well in that big brain of his.

She looked at him, saw her tired reflection in his concerned gold eyes, and smiled the briefest smiles that only increased the pain scrunched on his face.

Before she knew it, he had leaned over to wipe away some tears with his gloved hand a bit roughly.

"You idiot," he whispered harshly. "Stop crying – you shouldn't be crying in the first place! Damn it,m this is why I didn't want to tell you!" Instead of fighting his hand, she leaned into it and before she knew it, she was grabbing his sleeve and tugging him forward silently.

A little confused, Ed leaned in, and froze when she wrapped an arm around his neck and rested her forehead on his shoulder. It felt like an awkward position, which he quickly fixed by shifting his body and letting her settle into his chest as she wanted.

She didn't know she had calmed down so much until the door opened again and she heard a gasp. She tiredly opened her eyes open and peered over his shoulder.

Alphonse stood next to a familiar face, one that froze Winry in place.

She hadn't changed much – in fact, she looked just the same if not cleaned up and fully nourished. Her eyes still held that rather hollowed out look (something she didn't understand because she had just been having a secret relationship, right?) and her face was rather gaunt and pale.

There were dry streaks down her face, no doubt she had been crying, and Winry swallowed at the compassion she still saw in those green eyes of hers.

"Winry..." Melanie breathed. "You're..." She saw the woman clench her hand to her chest, face contorting in pain. "What have they done to you?"

Winry responded by burying her face in Ed's chest. She shut her eyes, trying to block out the sound of Melanie's breathing. What was she doing here? Didn't she tell Alphonse she didn't want to see her? Why would he throw away her will – wasn't she the injured one here?

"Tch," Ed clenched his jaw. "Alphonse, why the hell did you bring her in?"

"Melanie wanted to see how she was doing..." Al replied, a little sadly. "She really wanted to see at least her prognosis. I didn't think she'd come inside the room..."

"She could have asked the doctor," Ed replied acidly.

"The doctor wasn't in."

"The nurse."

"She was busy."

"You."

"I..."

Ed smirked coldly. "Got'cha."

Al scowled, eyes heavy with anxiety."Ed, this isn't time for your games! Melanie really wanted to see Winry and I think she deserved—!"

"She doesn't," Winry rejected, voice thick. "She doesn't deserve it."

"Winry," Melanie pleaded. "Winry, please, let me explain what happened—!"

"You lied!" Winry leaned off Edward and glared harshly. "You lied to me! You left me alone in a cell for hours while you—you were with your goddamn boyfriend!" Melanie froze at her scathing tone. "I was beaten! I was laughed at! I was _starved_, and you were...were out there having fun?" Tears stung her eyes again. "You don't deserve anything. You shouldn't even be here! Just—get out!" Winry dropped her head to her chest. She was remembering things she didn't want to. "Please...get out."

"It wasn't like that, Winry!" Melanie urged, once she got her voice back. "Please trust me when I say I was doing everything possible to get you out!"

"I thought you were being raped!" Winry cried sorrowfully. "I thought you were being tortured or-or forced to commit atrocities or _something_! But I should have known," she laughed shakily, "it was always the same guy who came. Every single time."

Melanie closed her eyes. "Winry..."

"You let him hit me," she whispered with a clench of her fist. "You didn't even try to stop him. Why?"

"Please..."

"Because it was an act?" Winry spat, scornfully. "Because you were trying to save me? That's nice and all but you didn't even make it in time! I was already being dragged into the interrogation room! You didn't do _anything! _You weren't even the one who-who saved me! He did!" She pointed at Ed, who was wide eyed and frozen, as she revealed things she hadn't told them. Alphonse looked equally shocked. "I was suppose to _die_ in that interrogation room. He told me I was going to die. Because I wasn't useful anymore since I wouldn't...I couldn't answer their questions."

Melanie paled.

"What would have happened if Ed hadn't come to save me then?" Winry bit her bottom lip, inhaling a shuddering breath. "I would have...they would have left me there...and I would've become another body in some dirty cell..." Winry swallowed thickly at the sheer thought. "Like everyone else."

She was crying again. The tears streamed thick down her cheeks. The older woman joined her, although her crying was louder, a little hysterical, and Winry managed to rub them off with her hand.

They were empty tears, anyway.

She didn't even _feel _like crying, not with all the conflicted emotions inside her.

"You were happy with your boyfriend during all this," Winry shrugged helplessly, not sure how to respond anymore. "I should have known better than to trust someone during war. I guess it was all my fault for doing just that. They told me not but I...didn't know." She closed her eyes. "But now I do...you're not suppose to trust anyone during war. It never works out like you think it would, does it?"

"No, Winry," Melanie whispered, painfully. "This was my fault. I should have been there...but I don't lie when I say I was truly trying to help you. I was planning your escape but—I didn't know it would be so soon...I didn't know they were going to do it so fast. They usually take longer, I honestly don't know why they arranged it like this!"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Winry replied, gazing at Edward's black long-sleeved shirt. "I'm not there anymore and that's _all_ that matters."

"Melanie, I think you should go now," Al interrupted gently, guiding the woman out with a little force.

"But—!"

"Now," Al repeated firmly. Melanie looked over her shoulder the entire time, shutting her eyes and forcing out the remaining tears before the door shut.

Edward was livid.

He could see red at the edge of his vision; a hateful, vengeful, emotion that choked in his throat start to steer his thoughts into terrain he was usually averse to. The memory he had of that man who had nearly beat Winry to death when he had barged into the room came back full force; how he had relished shedding blood and hearing the sickening splinter of bone because his thoughts were so focused on returning the anguish Winry had suffered twice fold – equivalent exchange be damned.

It was starting to seem like a good idea again right then and there again.

His eyes burned into the sheets, Winry's words bouncing off the walls of his mind; accompanied by images he'd rather not see.

One sentence refused to quiet.

"_You let him hit me"_

He clenched his hands. The rage which had been building from that point on was uncontainable – he wanted to bolt outside and beat the man who hurt Winry senseless. But he held himself in place, because he still had enough sense to know that Winry was more important right now than some expendable soldier.

"So...that's how it was," Ed screwed his eyes shut to contain the fury. He breathed in deeply. "He was the one who hurt you."

"He didn't do it often," Winry whispered tremulously. "There were others."

"But he hurt you."

"He had to," she said, resignedly.

"He didn't," Ed snarled, furiously. "_He didn't if he knew just who the hell you were!_"

Winry swallowed; his voice was loud and had a fury that made her tread carefully. "Ed..?" She reached for him, flinching back when he snapped his head up and bore savage eyes into hers.

She gasped.

She was scared, she discovered, scared as she stared into eyes that howled murder. She saw his eyes widen with a different emotion, shock, and she found out that it was because she had thrown herself back; putting as much space between them as possible.

She had done it instinctively, she'd argue. She had recognized the bloodthirsty look from the Drachma soldiers that entered her cell and often dragged her to the interrogation room. The other soldiers who arrived once she was inside and further humiliated her.

That was the only reason, the only reason as his eyes softened with remorse.

"Winry, I..." he whispered, lips parted to say more. But the words he wanted to say were caught in his throat.

The flicker of fright in her eyes had cooled his rage.

He scared her.

It tore him up inside that he had dredged up bad memories associated with such a brutal look.

He let his hair shade his eyes and stood, avoiding further eye contact. "I...I have to go talk to Al," he rasped. "I'll be back...soon."

He left without another word, leaving Winry alone in the empty confines of the hospital room.


	7. News

**5 Second Countdown  
_by. _**_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_07: News_

* * *

_02 weeks, 02 days, 05 hours, 02 seconds later_

He was avoiding her because of what she did, that was all she could chalk it up to.

Every time he came, he left just as quickly.

He never looked her directly in the eye and he was mostly impatient, his foot tapping on the ground and his eyes straying to the clock every few minutes.

It wasn't like before, when she felt the warm feeling of companionship with him.

Now it was more strained: she could feel the tension crackle between them like the alchemy he once preformed.

He was just waiting to leave; he wasn't reluctant anymore.

This was more of an obligation to him now and she hated it.

"I'll be right back, I have to go to the restroom," Ed said, breaking the silence. Winry didn't look up, she just stared glossily at the sheets, her hands fisting the material. She knew this alienation was all her fault. "I'll ask the nurse when you're due for release, she said she'd have the date by today so—"

Her hand struck out, grabbing his own when he stood. Ed stared at the hand then slowly looked up at her, at the straight corn-blond hair that obstructed his view of her. She pulled him down with a surprising amount of strength, forcing him to sit.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

His eyes widened. "Huh? What are you sorry for?"

"It's my fault, right?" she bit her bottom lip, mouth curling in a self-deprecating grimace. "Why it's...like this now."

Edward's face softened. The tension was honestly tangible; he wasn't surprised she had noticed it. It was terrible and he knew exactly why this tension had arose: he was resolute on preventing further pain on her part by avoiding eye contact or any type of contact, actually.

When she had jumped back with that frightened glisten in her eye it made him realize just how fragile she had become; just how easily she could scare and how simple it was to shatter her.

The last thing she needed was his temper to hurt her...

"No, it's not your fault," Ed corrected, his hand limp in her own. "It was mine. I let my temper get the best of me and...I'm sorry. You didn't have to see that..." He bowed her head, swallowing down the lump of shame.

"You're really dumb," Winry chuckled, causing Ed to look up quickly. He frowned at her chuckles and was about to say something about jerk mechanics when she added: "I know exactly what you're doing and I'll tell you now it's hurting me more than it's protecting me," her voice cracked toward the end.

He froze.

"I hate it," she laughed, bitterly. Her eyes narrowed, sparkling too brightly in the light from the evening sun. "I hate it when you do this...so, please stop because..."

They didn't say anything for a moment. He slowly took his hand from hers and she felt his other hand rest on her head. It was still for another moment before she dared to look up. He wasn't looking at her but at the land across from him; outside, where she longed to be but couldn't because of her injuries.

When he did look at her, her heart skipped a beat.

There was a rare type of softness in his eyes – a warmth that consumed her in its velvet and tickling flames...she felt her cheeks heat up against her will.

"Hey, do you still like vanilla?"

"M-mmhmm." She didn't trust herself with speaking yet; not when he was looking at her so adoringly.

"I saw an ice-cream stand outside, you want some?" Ed asked.

She hesitantly nodded.

"I'll be right back then," he ruffled her hair a little. She tried to push it away to no avail. It was bad enough she always had bed hair – he didn't need to make it worse! "Try not to miss me too much," he added teasingly, looking a little happier than he did a few minutes ago.

"I-I thought you hated ice-cream!" she blurted, right before he stepped out. "It's made out of milk..."

Ed smirked. "I do, but I remember you saying that you really liked vanilla."

She nodded, dumbly.

"That's why I'm getting ice-cream, duh."

"Y..you're not getting any?" She was just so full of obvious question, wasn't she? Winry tried to regain her lost IQ points.

Why did he have to look at her like that? Maybe if he stopped looking at her with those buttery soft eyes, then maybe she would be able to think straight.

"Let's clear everything up right now: ice-cream is just a derivative of milk in a more appealing form," Ed stated blandly. "I'd rather eat nails for breakfast than drink that abhorrent—_cow secretion_!"

Winry laughed. "You really have to get over this! It's getting ridiculous! It's _just _milk and its good for you," she added firmly.

Ed scoffed, sticking his nose in the air. "Look, do you want any or not?"

She smiled warmly, causing Ed's face to heat. "Sure."

When Ed closed the door, he leaned against it for a moment. His heart was beating very fast in his chest. It had come to a start to him that his avoidance strategy backfired but now that he really thought about it, he _always_ did this. The result was nearly always the same, too, what would change this time around?

Then he remembered how gentle her eyes had gotten when he offered her that damn ice-cream cone...

_Snap out of it, _he barked at himself. _Hurry up before she gets impatient and nags you! _He stalked to the ice-cream stand while firmly repeating in his head: the only reason her eyes had gotten so soft was because she was just a very emotional person; of course she'd express something like that! She was similar to Al in that aspect...so expressive, passionate, chipper...

He bought the ice-cream with no trouble at all, walking back up the familiar halls of the hospital with the cone in his hand. He ignored the curious stares of the nurses and doctors that paced through the hospital and shot a dirty look at a nurse who frowned at the treat in his hand.

He took a quick detour and went to the restroom for one reason only: he hated the fact that when he looked in the mirror, his cheeks still hadn't cooled off in the slightest.

He blamed it on the walk.

* * *

_02 weeks, 05 days, 09 hours, 03 seconds later_

Winry snapped her head to the door when she heard footsteps come from outside, eager to tell Edward that he was wrong and that she could leave a week early when Alphonse stepped through.

She didn't want to admit it but she felt more disappointed than she should be.

"Al? What are you doing here? Where's Ed?"

Alphonse smiled knowingly. "Good morning, Winry. Did you sleep well?"

Winry pinked. Right. Formalities. "Good morning to you, too, Al..."

"Brother can't be here today so he asked me to keep you company for the time being," he informed cheerfully, a newspaper tucked under his arm. "He has some business to take care of with the Brigadier General. He'll probably be back later if he has time."

"I see..." Winry fumbled with the sheets for a moment. "Wait, General?"

Al cocked his head. "Yeah, Colonel Mustang got promoted to Brigadier General a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh," Winry was a little surprised; she thought he still held the rank of Colonel. Roy Mustang was still so young, too... "Well, I have some good news." She might as well tell Al. Who else did she have to tell? "I can get out next week! The nurse says that I've been recuperating quickly so I can go home Friday! Sunday at the latest!" She touched her bandaged right hand, which still had frostbite damage but had been recovering nicely. Her left did not hurt as much as before, meaning she had more movement in it as well.

Those were the primary problems keeping her from freedom and now the nurse had finally given her the OK. She couldn't be more excited.

_But if Ed were here... _her mind added traitorously, causing her heart to pick up a little at the thought of him.

Al's eyes widened. "That's great, Winry! I can't wait to tell brother!" he laughed, happily. "He'll be so thrilled when he finds out!"

Winry beamed. "Mm-hmm!"

Time spent with Alphonse wasn't as bad as time spent with Edward, with a varying degree of differences. One of them being that she and Al often fell into lapses of silence or she wouldn't feel that edge of thrill she got whenever she and Ed were in the same room.

There was always that sweet tension with Edward that wound her up in excitement as well as nervousness. The accidental touches, accidental word-slips, and lingering eyes were always something she cherished.

It was a relief to feel something different after spending all those days cowering in fear.

But with Al there wasn't any of that edge: there was more of a tranquil, soothing, vibe that made her sleepy and content.

She supposed she could live with a day of tranquility.

"Neh, brother sure has changed," Al spoke up, looking up from the newspaper for a moment.

"What are you talking about, Al?"

Al only smiled. "He looks happier. He's also been handing in his reports on time, too, which is great for him since Brigadier General Mustang was starting to get really annoyed with the late reports..."

"Reports?" Winry queried. Edward hadn't told her anything about reports... in fact, now that she thought about it, he never really told he what he did on his free time. He mostly spent it here so she had assumed that he didn't really _have _anything to do at home...

_But that's a stupid thought, _she inwardly told herself. _This is Ed, for crying out loud! He always has something to do..._

"Yep. Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you he got promoted one rank along with the General," Al explained. "He's a Lieutenant Colonel now. So Brigadier General Mustang often has him turning in reports of the latest State Alchemist certifications or other type of usual paperwork."

"Wait...you mean, he has work everyday?" she asked, with trepidation.

"Well, I wouldn't say everyday," Al chuckled. "Every other day or so. It all depends. Sometimes he has a lot during the week and sometimes he goes days without a single sheet. Right now, he's in over his head with paperwork! Doesn't that remind you of when the Brigadier General was a Colonel?" Al sighed, getting lost in a few memories, while Winry forced a laugh out and tried to keep her irritation in check.

"Oh, so he's been...busy all of these days, hasn't he?"

"Yup!" Al chirped. "He told me you helped him out with the paperwork when he comes to visit you."

Winry felt a flare of annoyance. So she helped him out, huh? "Yeah...that's right, I help him with the stacks of work _every_ time he brings them over." Winry tried hard to ignore her rising ire. "_I _mostly do all of it, of course."

"You do?" Al blinked, frowning. "He never told me that..."

"Of course he wouldn't," she growled through clenched teeth. "Because he's a lying _jerk_, that's why!"

Al's brows pinched in suspicion. "Winry, is there something you aren't telling me?"

She breathed in deeply, trying to barricade her emotions from spinning out of control. "No. It's nothing, Al. Don't worry about it."

He didn't look too convinced. "Are you sure? If something's bothering you, you know that you can always talk to me, right?"

Winry smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Al, but there really isn't anything wrong." _Except that he's been lying to me, _she thought darkly. _'I'm not busy' my ass!_

"Thank you for helping him with the work, Winry," Al said sincerely, thanking her on his brothers behalf. Winry felt a little guilty for covering up for Ed now. "He was so...stressed when he found out you had been captured."

"Ed told me that you found out a day later from granny..." she said, trailing off.

Al nodded, grimly. "Yes, we didn't want to believe it at first but...then it all started to make sense."

Confusion crossed her face.

"We were busy with the State Alchemist Exams in the East that we never really had time for anything else," Al explained himself. "We did get messages of your calls...but everytime we remembered to return them, it'd be too late at night to do it."

"I-I was going to tell you that I was... leaving but.." she hesitated.

"We should have answered," Al whispered, sounding morose. "We never really gave your phone calls much thought...that's probably why brother has been spending so much time here...he wants to atone for what he did to put you in such a mess."

"He feels bad for not answering my calls?" Winry laughed lightly, shaking her head at the things the brothers did to make up for events that were simply out of their control. She didn't blame them for not answering – she _had _mostly called Alphonse. She had stopped calling Ed in fear of him actually picking up. "You two were busy so of course you'd forget...and I've never called you two for anything more than a simple 'hello' or to check up on Ed's automail. You probably trusted that it wasn't anything bad." Winry heaved a sigh. "If you two _had_ answered...I don't think it'd make much of a difference," she confessed. "I would have gone anyway."

Al closed his eyes for a moment. "Ed told me about that." When he opened his eyes, compassion glowed in them. Winry always wondered how the brothers could be such polar opposites: Ed's eyes were a smoldering pit of amber's while Al's were pits of sweet honey golden. "I think your parents would have been proud, too, Win."

She managed a small smile, the thought of her parents dampening her mood. "Yeah...I hope so."

The door opened and a nurse peeked her head inside. "Alphonse Elric?"

Al stood up. "Yes, that's me. What is it?"

"You have a visitor in the waiting room," the nurse said.

"Visitor?" he blinked.

"Her name is Mei Chang? She says it is urgent."

Immediately, his face colored pink and a smile tugged his lips. Winry stifled a giggle and looked away when Al sent her a helpless look. The boy took a deep breath, unconsciously fixing his cufflinks. "Tell her I'll be with her in a second."

The nurses nodded and left the room to deliver the message.

Al snapped his head to Winry. "U-um, Winry, I sort of have to..."

"It's okay, Al," Winry smiled brightly. "Go meet up with your girlfriend."

"Sh-she's not my gi-girlfriend! Its just Mei, remember? Nothing is going on between us! Really!" Al squeaked, eyes going wide at the implications with the daunting word 'girlfriend'. His cheeks seemed to get redder the more she tried to muffle her laughter.

"It's okay, Al! I get it!" she winked conspiratorially. "Go ahead, I'll be fine here. I'm feeling a little sleepy as it is."

Al looked hesitant. "Well, if you say so...I'll be back in an hour to check up on you, okay?"

"Take your time." She shooed him out, thinking how sweet it was to see Al with a crush.

The boy just barely resisted sprinting out of the room when he got the OK from her.

Winry laid back in her bed, sinking into the sheets softened with the time she spent in them. She wasn't sleepy, far from it given the information Al had inadvertently told her, but she still felt her eyes grow heavy regardless.

Her hands reached under her pillow to finger the cold metal of the wrench she had been given by Edward. Then she touched the other one, the one her grandmother had brought along with her during her visit, before clutching her hand around both of them and closing her eyes more easily.

Her last coherent thought was to get Ed back for hiding things again as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

_02 weeks, 06 days, 11 hours, 6 seconds later_

"Brother! Finally, where have you been?"

"Uh, the word _work _ring a bell? How the hell do you think we still have food in the kitchen? That's all _me _you ungrateful little brat!"

"Ugh, brother, not now! Did you know that Mei is here? She came to visit me yesterday while I was with Winry!"

"What? _Mei?_ The bean-girl is here?"

"Huh? Y-you mean you didn't know?"

"No! If I did, don't you think I would've told you?"

"Well..."

"What's with the hesitation?"

"You _did _say you were going to get me back for teasing you about—"

"AL! SHH!"

"She's asleep, brother, she can't hear us."

"Just shut up, Al!"

Winry cracked an eye open, turning her head to the door-frame where the brothers stood, bickering. She felt a ripple of relief when she saw Edward but there was a more pressing thought at the moment: why he lied.

The irritation of being lied to came back full-force and she snapped her eyes shut when Ed took notice of the daggers she was glaring into the side of his head.

"Are you _sure_ she's asleep?" he whispered to Alphonse, who glanced at her. She _looked_ asleep...

"Yes, why?"

"I dunno', I got this weird vibe..." Ed shrugged it off. "Anyway, I think Mei is here as a representative for Xing. As you know, the Fuhrer has been wanting to form an alliance with Xing in order to successfully win the war waged by Drachma. Ling also mentioned something about this alliance the last time we saw him...why he sent Mei, I have no clue; I thought she was some royal princess or something."

"That's just it! Princess' don't travel across the Eastern Desert for a conference! They have envoys for that!" Al hissed.

Ed shrugged. "Maybe she wanted to come, ever thought of that?"

"B-but _why_?"

Ed smirked and suggestively rose his brows. "Who knows, maybe Mei wants an Amestrian suitor. She _does _need to get married off pretty soon, you know." He crossed his arms over his chest, innocently looking away as his brother glared scornfully at him. "You shouldn't worry about it though – weren't you going to Xing to study Alkahestry, regardless? She's skilled in that type of alchemy; take advantage of this opportunity and learn as much as you can from the brat!"

"Brother—!"

"Anyway, here."

"Huh? What's all this?"

"Automail books."

"For Winry?"

"Yeah, Sciezska caught me in the office and she told me to drop these off when I had the chance. My break is almost over so I have to go soon."

Al's brows creased with concern for his brothers health. The shadows under his eyes signified sleep deprivation and if there was one thing he knew his brother lacked in his life, it was sleep; no matter how much he loved it. "You've been busier than usual."

"Yeah, I have a shitload of paperwork to take care of with the newly drafted soldiers coming in. I had to sort out at least a whole battalion full of them for the 90-day training camp out by the East before I ship them off to the front lines. About a dozen will stay here in Central for office duty, though," Ed grumbled. "Mustang wasn't kidding about this whole Colonel thing – I spend the whole damn day sorting out reports, checking cases and investigations, keeping track of this damn war...I sort of want to quit; I'm sick of seeing a stack of papers every time I walk into the office every goddamn morning!"

_Ever morning? _Winry bristled. _He's been juggling his paperwork _and_ me this whole time?_

She felt touched but she was too annoyed to think about anything other than how hard Edward was going to get beaten with her wrench once she got a hold of him.

Al sighed, clearly having gone over this conversation before. "Brother, you _know_ why you can't quit."

"Tch, so Mustang played his cards right," Ed scoffed, fixing the collar of his military blue coat. "That doesn't mean he has full reign over me. If I don't feel like doing it, I won't do it...though I still think he should at least loosen up the damn dress code!" Ed pulled on his jacket, groaning in frustration. "I hate this thing! Its so stiff and _hot_!"

Al laughed at the frustrated expression. "Its mandatory, Ed, you have to wear it!"

Ed grumbled incoherently under his breath but Winry caught a few choice words before he spoke up again: "I have to go. My lunch break is over."

"Oh, no! Did you even eat anything?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Brother, you have to eat!"

"When I'm hungry, Al!" Ed snapped. Winry looked at Ed from under her lashes, discovering that he was, indeed, dressed in normal military protocol, which meant that he didn't plan on spending time with her as he always came in normal wear when he did. His navy blue military pants and jacket made him seem broader, taller, and the glinting badges that gave away his rank only heightened the intimidation he now carried.

She felt her cheeks warm when she thought too deeply into it.

He looked..._nice_...in uniform.

She closed her eyes when he looked over at her.

"See you, Alphonse. Tell Winry I'll be back later to visit her."

"Alright...I'm sending you lunch though!"

"Yeah, yeah!"

"Oh, and brother!"

"What?"

"Winry said she will be released next week, Friday! You'll be there for that... right?" Winry didn't like the uncertainty in Al's tone; he made it seem as if he _wouldn't_ be able to come...

Ed's hesitation certainly didn't make the doubt in her heart any better.

"...Really? That's great," he replied, a bit absently. "Yeah, I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

She didn't manage to catch the expression he made because Al was blocking her view.

All she caught was the swish of his pony tail as he walked down the hall and she couldn't help but to feel more lonely than she had felt in days.

* * *

**A/N:**I just love writing the scenes between the Resembool trio; I haven't written anything like this, I just realized. It usually revolves around Ed and Winry but now I included Al, which means I can check that off my list, huh? I haven't really written Winry/Al interaction...it's usually Ed/Win or Al/Mei...weird.

Thank you for your supporting reviews, as always.

_Scarlett._


	8. Scars

**5 Second Countdown  
_by. _**_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_08: Scars_

* * *

_03 weeks, 12 hours, 22 seconds later_

"Morning, Winry!" Ed yawned out, closing the door behind him. Winry looked up from her book and smiled, although it was a little subdued and he took notice of the lack of response. In fact, as her eyes scorched into his, he had a pretty good idea he was in trouble.

For what, he didn't know, but all the same his mind was racing for excuses and distractions as she crossed her arms over her chest and continued to glare.

"Winry...?"

"Not busy, huh?" she sneered and watched with a sense of satisfaction as his eyes widened. She saw a flicker of realization but it was quickly consumed by wry guilt. "So how long has this been going on, Ed?"

"It's just a little paperwork," he mumbled. "You don't have to have a cow over it."

"That's why you're sick of seeing stacks of it every morning, huh?" Winry shot back angrily, smirking when Ed stiffened.

"I thought you were you asleep!" he accused, and she shrugged; unruffled.

"You thought wrong," she huffed. "Go to work."

Ed's mouth dropped at her flat demand. "What?"

"You heard me: go to work!" Some of the anger that coated her words melted into concern. "Ed, you have work to do. You can't spend the whole day with me when you have to turn in reports to Mister Mustang!" There was also a disapproval in her tone that made him bristle a bit.

"I can turn them in _later_," he scowled, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly.

Winry frowned. "I don't want you to overwork yourself just to visit me."

"I'm not overworking myself."

"Ed, please."

"Please what? I'm not."

Winry resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Please stop being so stubborn! Either go to work or somehow find a way to both do your work and visit me!" She was thinking along the lines of first finishing his work and then coming to visit her, or to visit her every other day, but when she caught the sudden mischievous twinkle in his eyes she knew he'd thought of some _other_ way.

"I'll be back!" He quickly exited, leaving her in her own confusion.

As it turned out, he came back half an hour later with a briefcase in his hand. She blinked owlishly at the luggage, which was a little on the thick side, and Ed only grinned.

"I'll just bring my paperwork here!" Ed sat down on the stool and added: "Besides, I lied to Al about this so I might as well make that lie come true." He paused. "He _was_ the one that told you, right?"

"Yes..."

"I _knew_ it! That blabber mouth!"

"At least he _told_ me!" Winry countered scornfully. "When were _you_ going to tell _me_?"

Ed stayed quiet, unhappily so as he popped open his briefcase on his lap and shifted through some of the papers inside. His annoyed eyes skimmed through a few of them and Winry leaned back and tried to peer inside, eyes bulging when she saw the stacks of paperwork neatly filed inside.

He was sorting out through the first pile out of three when she tapped his knee. He looked up, still annoyed, but the annoyance flushed away when he caught sight of her twinkling blue eyes.

"Can I help?" she offered, with a small smile. "You also told Al that I was helping you."

Ed was a little hesitant. "Well, sure, but.." He frowned and dug through some of the pile, trying to look for something that she would be able to actually do. Most of the reports asked for his signature and review and he knew that if he had her read some over, she might miss something vital or unlawful.

So instead he handed her a pile of complaints and explained to her to sort them out according to five mandates.

Anything else was to be sorted into a different stack.

They began a process where she would slowly read the documents and place them in separate piles and he'd look up and glance at her work briefly before continuing his own.

After two and a half hours of this, Winry's eyes sore from reading, Ed slammed his case and sighed in relief. "Done!"

She placed the last paper of the second stack she'd gone through in the third pile and looked up with a happy smile. "Same."

"Great, now I just have to sort through those, too..." He groaned, kicking the closed briefcase down and laying his cheek against the sheets moodily. He brought his arms up and snuggled his face in them, his head pounding and his eyes scratchy.

He would say he'd never ridicule the General about his work habits again but that would be a lie – Ed loved to brag about the fun he had being Colonel just to annoy the General.

It was hilarious, to see the older man scowl and mutter incoherently under his breath about, he guessed, pint-sized brats and lies.

What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, however, and he had struck a deal with the rest of his co-workers in order to keep Mustang in the dark about his rather terrible work habits...

He felt Winry's hand rest on his head and Ed tensed before relaxing under her palm. Her fingers dug into his hair cautiously, scratching his skull and giving him this wonderful sense of complete ease as his eyes drooped closed. When her fingers carefully undid his ponytail and his hair became lose, he was about to complain when she ran her hand through his hair.

The complain lodged in his throat and he slumped forward further, tilting his head a bit to give her better access to his thick blond locks of hair. He found he didn't mind, as she gently combed through knots.

"It's not fair," Winry began softly. "You hardly take care of your hair but its so soft."

"I don't put all that shit you girls like to poison your hair with." he mumbled back, as her fingers dug into his head slightly. "So its healthy."

"I remember you used to like this," she smiled. "You complained a lot but you always let yourself..."

"Not true," he said, eyes shut closed as her hand combed through his hair once more. "I still don't like it..."

"Hmmm..." she hummed, raking her hairs through his hair and giggling when he sighed in content.

He didn't notice he had fallen asleep until he woke up, a few minutes later, to the sound of stifled giggles.

Ed shot up, alert, and twisted himself back to see Al standing by the door, holding in a laugh as his honey gold eyes twinkled with mirth.

Ed glared. "Al! What are you doing here? Weren't you suppose to be meeting up with the bean girl for some Alkahestry lesson or something?"

He was grinning too widely. It was pissing him off. "I just came back from that, actually. I was just going to tell you that its almost near the end of visiting hours..."

"Oh," Just to show Al he didn't care that he had caught him off-guard and to save himself further embarrassment, Ed laid his head back down. It wasn't as good as it had felt when he had fallen asleep with Winry's hand raking through his hair but it was good enough. "Okay. Thanks for the warning."

He heard his brothers footsteps draw close. "Aren't you going to pack up?"

Ed peeked his head out and glanced at Winry, who he found, with a small smile, was sleeping soundly; a small smile still on her lips. "Eventually," he replied vaguely, earning a frown in response.

"Brother, I've noticed that the house is really clean..."

"What're you trying to say?" Ed narrowed his eyes, a little dangerously, and turned to Al, who merely sighed wryly.

"Don't get all defensive. I just mean its like how I left it, which is weird because you usually leave it messy with papers and stuff. Its not normal to come to a clean house when you live there, too, you know."

Ed tried his best to keep casual, knowing how this was going to turn out. "So, maybe I cleaned up a bit..."

"Or maybe," Al suggested, a bit annoyed and worried. "You haven't been there at all?"

Ed stared.

Al stared back.

Ed broke eventually, his guilt for lying to his brother and Winry catching up to him. He groaned and slumped against his arms, muffling out: "Okay! Okay, so I haven't been going to the house lately..."

"Where have you been going then?" Al asked, concernedly. He couldn't imagine any other place his brother could go to...

"I've been...I've been staying here," Ed mumbled, cheeks going red at his brothers open-mouthed stare.

"_Staying_ here?" Al repeated, shocked. "But how can you stay here unless—!" He stopped and Ed sighed.

"Yes, Al, I've been staying next door in the empty room," Ed explained and heard his brother exhale in relief.

"Oh...I thought you were staying with Winry."

"I am staying with Winry." Ed looked at his brother oddly then saw the irony in his eyes and understood what he meant. "Oh! Shit, no! Not like that!" Ed tried to reassure, although his words came out hasty and flustered. The sheer thought of staying _with _Winry was almost too much to bear; that was only something he allowed himself to think about during the dead hours of the night...

"Aww, but that's so cute brother!" Al giggled at his older brothers red face. "You _care_ about Winry so much!" The way he said it implied more than just 'caring' and Ed was still much too insecure to admit such a large sentiment.

Instead, he did what he always did: play it off.

"Shut up, Al! She's been through shit worse than what we've experienced and that's saying something," Ed snapped, a little too harshly. Al's smile slowly faded. "It's the least I can do for her..." Ed rested his head back down, gazing at the white sheets absently. "It's partially our fault she got into this mess."

"Brother, you can't blame yourself for what happened," Al said softly, kneeling beside his older brother. "She would have gone even if we tried to keep her here...you know how stubborn Winry can be sometimes; she's almost as bad as you."

Ed chuckled, mirthlessly. "Maybe our stubbornness would've canceled each other out."

"Or maybe both of you would have gotten stuck in that situation," Al suggested, the thought making his stomach turn. "Brother, you saw what they did to her...what do you think they would have done to you? She told me...they...they mostly asked her questions regarding you and I."

Ed looked up sharply, gold eyes fierce on his own. "What?"

Al sighed. "This was why I didn't want to tell you."

"What do you mean they asked her about _us_?" Ed hissed, eyes narrowed. "What the hell did they ask her?"

"Your skills," Winry's quiet voice sliced the tension. Both brothers turned to her, breaths baited. "They wanted to know about your alchemy skills and they asked a lot about Al...they wanted to know if he was kept in 'an immortal state'," she air-quoted, "but I never said anything. Mostly because I didn't know anything aside from the fact that you two preformed human transmutation at a young age and Ed was some alchemist genius," she shrugged, helplessly. "They didn't think that was true, so they thought beating me hard enough would eventually make me say something."

Edward's hard gaze was upon her and she read the regret and self-depreciating fury at dragging her into danger again; however incidental it had been. She saw his fists clench and knew what was coming. She reached out to prevent another whirling tantrum of remorse and rage, gently prying his fingers open and holding his hand to calm him down.

Alphonse looked bleak. "But brother restored my body, didn't they know...?"

Winry shook her head. "No, they didn't." She bit the inside of her bottom lip. "They didn't sound like they knew, anyway. They just kept asking me how you were able to go without food and water...they were pretty convinced you were some immortal."

Al sighed. "Not this again..."

"Again?" Winry's stomach churned.

"Greed wanted it," Ed answered, voice low. "He abducted Al a few years ago to ask for the secret of 'true immortality'; essentially, the technique of soul-binding. He didn't know—actually, he couldn't understand—that being trapped in an unfeeling suit of armor was more of a curse than it was a blessing." Ed chuckled, darkly. "Damn moron. They're all idiots if they think getting bonded to an object that would reject your soul in due time is something to be appraised about."

"Ed..." Winry whispered, sympathetically.

Edward shrugged off that old grief and said: "I'm sorry. This really _was _our fault."

"Brother—!"

"It wasn't!" Winry denied, fervently. "It wasn't your fault! I was drafted because I wanted to! I tried calling you for one reason only: to tell you, but that was it! I was still going even if you threatened to chain me down!" Winry looked down, away from Ed's ardent gaze. "We all knew that North City was a dangerous place to be with all those rumors of infiltration but we still went...I still went...and the fact that I got caught in a raid was a coincidence. They probably thought they hit the jackpot when they found out who I was," she squeezed Ed's fingers. She was comforted by the fact that he squeezed back. "But I never took any interest in alchemy so..."

"They tortured you for nothing, didn't they?" Al filled in, softly, and Winry nodded, bitterly.

"But its okay," she whispered back, a wobbly smile on her face. "I was kind of relieved you two never told me anything. No matter how much I wanted to know, it was ultimately better this way. I'm sorry but...I-I think I would have said something..." Her grip on Edward's hand was deathly. "Sometimes I wished I did know, so that maybe they'd stop...but I always knew that if I did know something and I told them, they'd just kill me in the end so.." She drew in a breath, trying to ease the tension in her body. "I guess that was all delirious thinking."

"Brother and I tried to keep you out of our problems," Al said, quietly. "But in the end it didn't work, huh? Somehow, someway, you're always drawn into our issues..."

Winry smiled a bit. "Its a risk but I think its worth it." Her fingers eased a bit on Ed's hand. "You two are all I really got," her voice cracked and Ed's hand clenched her own suddenly. She looked up, into the burning pits of amber, and was about to add something else, something that would come close to a confession, when Al said:

"We'll never let you get too far, Winry." His voice was sure, confidence. "Never."

"He's right, Win," Ed said for the first time since she'd started talking. "We'd never leave you. We might not see each other for a while, and it might seem as if we have forgotten you, but know that we'll never let you slip away. We'd never leave you alone." The promise in his eyes was enough for her, as she teared up and committed the words to her heart; where they would comfort her during the periods of absence the brothers had now confessed would happen.

No matter how vague their words had been, she had caught the significance as if they'd spoken it clearly.

They'd come back, she thought, as she laced her fingers into Ed's hand.

They'd never leave her alone.

And when an Elric made a promise, he kept it.

* * *

_03 weeks, 02 days, 02 hours, 04 seconds later_

He had creeped into her room at such an ungodly hour she thought that something _must've_ gone wrong somewhere. But when his curious gold eyes peered into hers through the thickening dark, she was relieved to see more mischief than dead news in his eyes.

"Ed!" Winry mumbled groggily. "What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?"

"You spent the whole day asleep," he said, ignoring her question. "Let's go out."

Her heart skipped a beat. She knew he hadn't meant for it to come out _that_ way but she still couldn't help the slew of emotions that came with those three simple words. She managed to ask, "Where?"

"Outside," Ed smiled, eyes glinting like a cats under the moonlight. "You're always complaining about wanting to go out. Now's the perfect opportunity!"

"But..."

"Look, I know that not many nurses have the night shift and the ones that do spend it gossiping in the main floor," Ed informed. "I know a hall that would lead us to the back of the hospital, where the garden is. There's no one there right now, so...?"

Winry hesitated. "I'm not sure..."

"C'mon, Win!" Ed groaned. "Do you or do you not?"

She eventually gave in – only because he looked excited; most likely still an adrenaline junkie from all those years spent having watching behind your back. She slowly hopped off the bed, following Ed to the door. The mere notion that she had stepped past her boundaries, that she was outside into the cool hall, was like a breath of fresh air in her lungs.

She followed Ed with measured steps, her legs unused to the sensation of walking. She stumbled a bit and she found that she tired easily from being bed-ridden for so long. The bruises on her thighs and back hurt with every stride but she found that she didn't mind so long as the reward surpassed the pain she had to go through to attain it.

And she was sure it would.

The gust of fresh air was relieving.

Winry stood by the door for a second longer, relishing the freedom a step ahead; outside, where she could do whatever she wanted under the cloak of darkness.

When she did manage to take that accomplishing step, she felt freer than she had in weeks.

The fresh air, the sway of the trees, the milky beam of the moon, the thousands of fluorescent stars that dotted the sky despite the city lights, it was all beautiful in her eyes as Ed psst and waved her over quickly.

She didn't hesitate to run after him, giggling and having a hard time muffling them when Ed shot her a look of warning.

It became a subdued look, though, once he noticed the glittering happiness that made her eyes glow brightly.

He swallowed down his sudden trepidation and moved on, focusing on the spot near the edge of the garden where he was sure no one would find them unless they really looked.

"I can't believe it," Winry whispered with girlish glee. "I'm really outside again!"

"See? I told you it'd totally be worth it!" Ed grinned, proud he'd managed to uplift her spirits. Winry sat down on the grass instead of the bench, which Ed had no problem with as he sat down beside her.

"I never thought I'd be able to see this again," she confessed in the curtain of darkness. Her eyes gazed affectionately at the enclosed wilderness around her. She fingered the grass beneath her palms. She had never really appreciated nature. She had always thought it was pretty and soothing but never had there been the urgency to touch and feel that serenity as it had been when she'd been in captivity.

She closed her eyes.

She really had missed this.

She had lost track of time, listening to the night noises, as all-too-soon Ed was shaking her shoulder. She turned drowsy eyes to him, as he sucked in a sharp breath, and she found it a little humoring how he avoided her eyes and muttered something about leaving.

But she felt too comfortable to leave, just sitting upon the moist grass and letting the cool breeze brush her skin...

"Winry...?"

"I...don't want to go," she murmured sleepily.

Ed rolled his eyes. "Come on, idiot, you're falling asleep!"

"No I'm not..." she slurred a bit, her eyes drooping closed as her fingers dug into the soft soil. Edward stared at her for a moment, a little wondrous at how she could sleep so peacefully outside in the open. He figured it was the captivity that made her so defenseless and he grabbed her shoulder, gasping when she fell back into his arm.

She groaned at the movement and tried to sit up but he kept her there. She cracked her eyes open a little, puzzled by his actions but ultimately knowing what he was doing when he shifted and let his other hand tentatively pull her toward him.

She didn't resist a second time as she moved so she was between his legs and sunk into the warmth he offered.

He was glad for the darkness; it helped conceal the content smile and hot cheeks as she slept soundly against his chest.

* * *

_03 weeks, 02 days, 12 hours, 19 seconds later_

She had ordered him to go the office and he had obliged, begrudgingly. He had stated he would be back after five and she said she would be more than happy to welcome him back once he had completed all his paperwork and attended the meeting due at midday, in that very moment.

She had been reading a magazine on, surprisingly, fashion; something she'd only secretly read as it embarrassed her if anyone else found out about her small guilty pleasure. She internally thanked Sciezska for her critical eye and skill at picking out literature, however shallow it might be as she read up on cosmetics and clothing and current gossip.

The door clicked open and Winry looked up, expecting to see either Alphonse or a nurse, but was shocked cold when she was met with a pair of glossy green eyes.

"M-Melanie..." Winry whispered, her voice drying up in her throat. The woman closed the door behind her silently, turning her gaze to the ground in what she assumed was shame. When she looked back up, there was a sorrowful desperation in her eyes.

Melanie took three steps forward before her eyes overflowed with tears. She gripped the necklace on her neck tightly. "Please...please listen to what I have to say." Winry was too shocked to say anything, really, and the woman took this opportunity to continue: "I wasn't having an affair with Mathew," she explained, giving the man Winry had a mental image of a name. "It wasn't like that at first. At first he hit me, too, and he abused me just like all of them did...at first I really had been raped. Not by him but..." She sucked in a slow breath. Winry could see her hands tremble. "He helped me. He saved me the second time and...and I suppose I grew to depend on him since."

"You..."

"I was..." Melanie whispered, timidly. "I swear to you Winry, unto my daughters grave," Winry flinched; her daughter had died? "that it wasn't how you thought it was! When I discovered of his double-identity I vowed to get us out of there! He promised to help me and...and I suppose I started to like him too much," she confessed. "I assure you, there was nothing minutely sexual between us...not since I was...I was.." she pressed her lips together and dismissed that horrible memory. "I admit that I do carry feelings for him but most of our time spent together was planning for our escape."

"But..but he hit me," Winry whispered, with mild confusion. "How could he be trying to break me out when..."

"_Accept and move on; she is doing this for you and you should not be as selfish as to deny her this request."_

She bit her tongue to curb the lash of scorn at his cold words.

"Believe me, Winry," Melanie smiled wearily. "He is Drachmian by birth – he does hold a certain amount of disdain toward Amestrians, even if he is working for Briggs currently."

She didn't respond, waiting for Melanie to continue.

"I didn't know," she gulped in a deep breath. "I didn't know they were planning to get rid of you so early." She closed her eyes, as she remembered the cold fear that gripped her heart when Winry had first yelled that to her. "They never eliminate such valuable prisoners. Mathew promised me that there was still time but... I see there wasn't after all." She opened her eyes, jewel eyes haggard. "I owe Edward more than I could ever repay for coming in the brink of time."

Winry tried her best to keep her emotions hidden but she slowly felt her control weaken. She wasn't as callous as Edward, who, no matter how caring he actually was, could repress the emotion and express nothing but cold disdain. She somewhat wished she could do that in the moment but, in another way, she was glad she didn't.

The tightly wrapped sentiments toward the motherly woman were beginning to unravel, as she felt the slow leaks of compassion start to filter through the cracks in her heart.

It was a losing battle.

"I'm sorry," Melanie shuddered, eyes watery. "I'm really, truly, sorry. I know I kept this from you and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept it from you...there was no reason but I was sure you'd disagree if you had known just _who _was helping me plan such a thing..."

Winry allowed a small, weary, smile. She looked up at Melanie and said, softly. "I...I'm sorry to." She felt her grip on the sheets loosen. "You took that...all of that for me and I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to help you." She laughed a bit, ironically. "I made you go through something horrible and I don't know how to really repay you..."

"Just forgive me," Melanie laughed back, as she lurched forward, catching Winry in a crushing hug she returned with just as much strength; if not more.

"I'll try," Winry sniffled, tightening her arms around the woman's neck and squeezing her eyes shut.

The pain in her jaw and shoulder was forgotten.

This scar in her heart was healed.

She felt her life look up a little bit more.

* * *

_**A/N: **_The Melanie-Winry scene was a little hard to pan out in the beginning. I had to time it right and try to make it seem a little realistic, which I think I managed to pull off. Not realistic like 'our world' realistic, but realistic that it would be something a manga character would say XD

You can guess its a little emotional and dramatic.

By the way, this is the second to last chapter D: That's right people, the next chapter finishes this story off for good! Wow, you guys must be shocked, huh?

Do not fear, however! Directly after this update, I will post up a story called Wanderlust which I hope you will all read xD It is also Ed/Winry and I think you will all enjoy that story as well! :D

_Scarlett._


	9. Stop

**5 Second Countdown  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_09: Stop_

* * *

_03 weeks, 03 days, 10 hours, 32 seconds later_

"You look happy," Edward commented, looking up from his alchemy tome. The heavy book weighed in his hand but he was grateful to be able to feel the weight in both his hands regardless, as his sharp eyes ran over the words. He had been a little curious as to what had her looking so content but he couldn't seem to bring it into conversation.

He didn't have supreme conversational skills like Al did.

Maybe that had been why Mustang had fervently denied him the honor of being a diplomat, although Ed would argue that, if it was important enough, he really _could _pull it off.

But perhaps Mustang was right: half the time, he'd be lacing insults into carefully articulated words and that would only plunge him into trouble he didn't think he'd be able to fight his way out this time around.

"I'm just happy," Winry turned to him, smiling. "I spoke to Melanie yesterday."

Ed went rigid. His eyes narrowed in intense dislike.

"Who let her in?" Ed scowled, not liking this one bit. "I told the nurse not to let her in! How the hell did she...?"

"It's okay," Winry quickly said, a little touched by Ed's protective nature. That had always been one of the things she loved about him, even if it annoyed her most of the time. "We...we talked and she cleared up some things for me. We reached an understanding," she smiled, warmly, and the boiling anger Ed felt slowly reduced to a simmer. "I think...I can finally forgive her now."

Ed managed a tense smile. "That's great, Win. But are you sure?"

"Yeah," she nodded, widening her smile. "I'm sure."

He still looked disgruntled. "Well, whatever keeps you happy I guess," Ed dismissed, slouching back and raising his booted feet atop the edge of her bed. She watched with a raised brow as he sunk into his chair, tipping it back slightly and opening the book on his lap, eyes searching out the place he'd stopped on previously

"Ed, that's gross!" Winry poked his boot with a lightly bandaged finger. Ed pushed her finger away with the tip of his boot. "Get your dirty boots off my bed!"

"Hey, they're not dirty!" Ed defended. "And you didn't mind the last time I did it!"

"That's 'cause I was too sleepy to care!" Winry huffed. She reached down and grabbed the boot, wiggling it down to no avail. The were firmly locked on the edge her bed, beside her legs. "Ed-ward!"

"If you can push them off, maybe," Ed grinned cheekily, earning a look of exasperation.

"Edward Elric, you get these boots off my bed right now!" she commanded, using her authoritative tone, but Ed only whistled as he read a few lines off his book. "Ugh, Ed..." she resorted to whining, prodding his boot with her hand weakly.

"Say the magic word."

"Please?"

Ed snorted. "No. The other magic words."

"What other..." her eyes widened and she rolled them soon after, a smile threatening to break the annoyed expression. "Oh. That."

"Say it," Ed pressed, flicking his eyes to her. "Say it, Win, and I'll move."

She inhaled deeply, releasing an exaggerated breath. "You're so _tall_ I can't even see you, now can you get your boots off my bed?"

Ed shot her a triumphant grin. "Of _course_ I can." He slid them off, making her glare petulantly at his smug expression. So he had grown up a few inches, that didn't mean he could parade around as if he were the tallest man in Amestris! Honestly, sometimes she wondered if he would ever grow out of this complexity.

"You're such a jerk, you know that?" The annoyance was veiled with amusement.

Edward tipped his chair back a bit in response.

She noticed the leg of the chair scrape forward and before Ed could speak, she had reached out and grabbed his jacket, just as the leg gave out from under him.

He was flung forward due to the force of her pull. Given his reflexes, he had managed to get on his feet before anything, just as the chair flipped on its back and clattered nosily against the floor. Despite her hold on his jacket, he was more leaning over her legs, breathing hard from the thrill that had coursed through his body in those few seconds.

"Be careful, idiot!" Winry shouted, grimacing when her hands throbbed a bit from the sudden action. "I warned you this would happen the _last _time you did it when we were in Resembool!"

"Yeah, yeah," Ed breathed slowly, leaning back a bit as her hand unfurled from the jacket. "Point made." He rested his forearms on the bed, tossing his head down. Her eyes trailed the curve of his jaw, lingering on his lips for a moment before darting back to his eyes, which were closed as he calmed his racing heart. "Man, that sure gave me a scare."

"Serves you right," she mumbled, looking away with a small blush.

He glanced at her, annoyed, before standing upright, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. Her eyes caught the scars that hid away behind his tank top briefly before his jacket covered them once more.

Despite not having automail anymore, there was a large discolored spot of skin that stretched all around the upper part of his arm; from where the port had been connected previously.

She trailed her gaze down thoughtfully, as he released a loud hum of satisfaction when his muscles were left with a warm burn.

He noticed her sudden silence and bent down curiously, tilting his head so he could peer at her rather somber expression. She didn't notice he was so close until she rose her eyes a bit, two wide gold eyes blinking back at her.

She gasped, reality setting in, and jumped back, smacking her head against the metal bars that served as her headboard.

Tears sprung to the corners of her eyes as she muffled a squeal and groped the back of her head in an attempt to rub away the sharp prickles of pain.

"Oh, shit, are you alright?" Ed asked, voice edging hysterical, and she only bounced in place, shaking her head as she tried to rub away the stinging pain.

"Owww!" she moaned, biting her quivering lip. "Th...that hurt a lot!" She felt a hand, a broader hand, consume her own and rub out the injury along with her, a chuckle above her causing her to pause her pained dance. "What are you laughing at?" she shouted, as his chuckle morphed into a full-out laugh. "You jerk! Shut up!"

"I..I'm sorry!" Ed grinned, trying to stifle his laughter. "That was...just really funny."

Winry pinked, not wanting to be a source of entertainment quite like this. "Ugh, that's the last time I try to save your butt!" She massaged the bump on the back of her head, his own hand helping her, and the pain to slowly dissolved into an ignorable throb. "Ungrateful brat..."

"Better?" Ed humored.

She scowled. "A little..." His hand felt too hot against her own, she discovered, but that might have just been her as the pain became nothing more than a distant memory. She slowly dropped her hand, his own still kneading the injury, and wondered if he would keep it up only to feel disappointed when he removed his hand right after her.

"I think I have a bump now," she mumbled grumpily. She glanced at the metal bars behind her with a crude glare. "Whose idea was it to make the headboard out of steel?"

Ed shrugged. "Hospital regulations?"

Winry rolled her eyes. "Be quiet, you giant brain."

Ed scowled. "Better than being stupid."

"Watch it, Ed," Winry winced when she touched her new bump too hard. "Ouch..." She heard Ed shift and he was once again butting into her personal space. Her cheeks flushed, as his mouth came beside her ear and he tilted her head down, flicking away hair and gazing at the bump critically. "H-hey, what are you doing?" she stuttered, a little flustered.

"Just checking... it's not that bad." He leaned back, stating: "When you hit me with your wrench its worse so you'll live."

"You deserve those, too," she murmured, giggling softly when he shot her a dark look. However, the instant their eyes locked it was a losing battle of wills. He was usually the one to suddenly look away but this time he didn't...

She wondered who would succumb first, as they engaged in a staring match.

Her bump was long forgotten.

The sudden flicker in emotions, as deliberate as switching the light on, was full and abrupt. There was a strange clash of conflicts in his eyes, as they darkened considerably in the white light of the hospital room. The once burnished gold eyes she admired became a darkly coated gold, which enticed her in a completely different way as she felt her own eyes smolder with an emotion she didn't think she could muster.

She didn't know who was the first one to draw closer but, like snapping a picture with a camera, she saw that they had gotten so close in a flash.

His breath was brushing her lips and she could hear her heart thud in her chest as his face drew nearer and nearer.

It wasn't long before she felt his lips feather her own, before she felt them mold to her's with velvet softness.

It wasn't long before her hand rose up to wrap around his neck, before their mouths began to move in unison as their hearts thundered in their throats.

It had been awkward at first, their teeth clacking sometimes, but she had been in no hurry and neither had Ed, from what she saw before her thoughts turned to mush.

His body pushed her back, as he kneeled on the bed and pressed closer to her warmth. The kiss had become rough and hard, something slathered with desperation and need and experimentation, as her fingers dug into his hair and his own hand gripped her hip.

The mild ache in her jaw grew worse with the movements but she would first shoot herself than stop just because of some slight pains in her face...

She supposed the only reason they stopped the heated contact was because of the rapid footsteps approaching the door.

She was pretty sure Ed hated that nurse with a burning passion the instant she stormed through the doorway to announce what was wrong as her heart rate had been skyrocketing out of control and could be heard from down the hall.

Winry had completely forgotten about that thing hooked up to her less damaged hand; her left hand.

Edward looked ready to transmute it into oblivion, if only he could, she added in her head.

She supposed it was worth it in the end, as the nurse left a few minutes later with suspicious eyes, and the flicker of emotions encompassed both of them once more.

Only this time, she made sure to yank the cord off her finger when his mouth consumed hers again.

* * *

_04 weeks, 10 hours, 01 second later_

She thanked the nurse who handed her her bag. The woman smiled kindly and helped her pack the things brought to her by her closets friends. The books were the worst thing as they took up most of the space but Winry didn't mind carrying it, despite the pricks every time she walked and the dull throb in her still-wrapped hands.

Her leg hurt a lot. That much was obvious to her when she changed into normal wear and stepped into the hall. There was a pulsing, pounding, and burning sear that made it hard to walk more than five steps but she could ignore it if she walked a little funny: she had to drag her leg a little in order to sooth the burning.

She inwardly wondered why it hadn't hurt before, when she had snuck out with Ed, and blamed it on the excitement that had been running haywire inside of her.

"Your leg should heal fully within the next few weeks," the nurse explained, helping her with some of her bags. "The doctor prescribed some pain killers just in case. You take only _one _pill no matter how much it hurts, do you understand?"

"Yes, thank you." Winry reached the lift and they squeezed inside the rather full elevator.

"There is someone waiting for you downstairs," the nurse added, a warm smile lighting her face. There was an amusement Winry didn't understand in her eyes, also. "They said they couldn't come see you down because of some complications."

"Oh, okay..." The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Winry shuffled out, grabbing her bags and following the nurse down a stark white hall.

She felt her heart threaten to pound out of her chest.

She would finally be out of this aesthetic complex.

She would finally be...outside.

Free.

_Free, _she thought, with a blossoming smile. She tried to hurry, her eyes focused on the blinding white double doors that stood just a few meters away...

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY WINRY!"

The mechanic stopped dead, staring at the group of people that greeted her with wide smiles and happy eyes just a few steps to the side of the door. She could see her granny in the front, Alphonse, Mei, Havoc, Maria, Denny, Riza, Sciezska, Breda, Fuery, _Mustang..._

To her gleeful surprise, Edward was there also, a little secluded by a corner, wearing a soft smile as her eyes stung with tears. She looked down and tried to keep her tears in her eyes, as she felt her grandmother come forth and give her a hug. Winry embraced her fully, unable to keep the grin from her face as she did

"What is all this?" she asked, a little breathlessly, after somehow composing herself.

"It's your birthday, remember?" Al pipped, beaming.

"When we found out that you were due for release on Friday we realized that it was just a few days before your birthday," Riza explained with warm ruby-chocolate eyes. "It's a little late but we hope you don't mind."

"I-I don't know what to say," Winry laughed, joyfully. "I can't believe you all remembered..."

"Actually," Mustang spoke up, smirking. "It was _Edward's _idea. He planned this whole thing out _just _for _you_. You should've seen the shrimp – he was stressing out trying to round us up for you release," Roy drawled casually.

Her cheeks grew steadily pink, as said boy marched forward with a heavy scowl.

"Sh-shut the _hell_ up, Mustang!" he shouted, his cheeks scarlet. "I didn't _plan _it out! I just said it-it'd be better if you all come to see her get released," he stuttered out. "That's all!"

"Isn't that sweet? I remember when I was a teenager," Mustang sighed wistfully. "I was getting laid by the double digits at your age though; you're a little behind, Full Metal."

"Ha! Yeah, right!" Ed snorted in response. "Everyone here knows you wouldn't last more than a minute! Bet you were a disappointment to all those girls," he smirked mischievously

Mustang's eyes flashed and he turned sharply to Ed. "Why you little—!"

"Sir, please," Riza reasoned, gripping his forearm as Ed grinned cunningly. "He is still young; you cannot let his words get to you."

Mustang looked befuddled. "But—he just—!"

"_Yeah_, Mustang, I'm still young," Ed taunted, making Mustang's blood boil. That little runt! "I can call you a shithead Colonel and you can't say _anything_ back!" he grinned.

Mustang glared at Ed. He couldn't wait until they got back to the office; he'd make the runt run for his money with all the paperwork he planned to deliver on his desk first thing tomorrow morning...

"Sucks being an adult sometimes, doesn't it?" Ed flashed a happy smile, as Maria and Denny paled and gawked at his audacity. Fuery, Breda and Havoc were sighing, used to this type of behavior, and Alphonse was poking Ed on the shoulder in admonishment, hissing something about respecting your elders and being more tactful and less tacky.

Ed exploded into a spitting rage when Al said he was tacky.

Winry drank this sight in fully, somehow not being able to comprehend that she was here, sound and safe and recovering from past scars, with the people she adored the most. The people that cared for her and never failed to show it. The sense of normality was too much for her to handle, though. She bowed her head and let her tears stream down her face.

For once, they weren't tears of sorrow or carnage.

They were honest, happy, tears.

"Winry, are you okay?" Al asked, concernedly.

Immediately, Ed stopped taunting Mustang and locked his sights on Winry, who was hiding her face in her hands. He hesitantly stepped beside her, Al following, and the two brothers whispered questions which she only shook her head to.

"I-I'm okay," she shuddered in a breath. When she looked up, a happy, blissful, smile met the group of friends. "I'm not sad I'm just...so happy!"

Riza smiled warmly and Roy nodded his head at her, a small smile of his own on his face.

Sciezska rushed beside her, fretting and asking her if an automail book would make her feel better since she wasn't so sure the tears were from happiness when more came drizzling down.

As the mass of people fussed and laughed around her, she felt better than she had in years.

The nightmare she had been a victim to was starting to fade into nothing more than a frightening memory; being overwritten by the happiness that abounded her in that moment. All of the blood, all of the endless darkness she had thought she'd never be able to fully shrug off any time soon, she knew now, would be overwritten by the happiness that was to come, as she laughed at something Riza said to Roy, who looked a little offended in return.

She would be okay now.

She glanced down and grabbed Edward's hand with her left, the one that was healing very nicely, just like her life would no time at all; squeezing it and making the boy pink at the contact. He flashed his eyes to her, questioningly, but she only beamed back.

She would be able to overcome the damage done to her, so long as the two brothers never strayed too far away and so long as she knew that she had good friends to count on.

She was sure she would overcome the darkness that still lingered in her heart when he laced their fingers together and squeezed her hand back.

* * *

**A/N: **Yep. That's it, folks. The end of the story. I wrote this a long time ago and I finished it a long time ago, which is why it got updated so frequently. I'm actually very proud of myself for this, since I usually only write up to 5 chapters ahead and then I post it and start from there. That's probably why I end up taking so long to finish a story: I get lazy and lose the plot altogether and end up marking it unfinished or something.

But, thankfully, that doesn't happen often.

Glad this one pulled through, though! :D

Happy news: I've got another Ed/Winry story up. So, go and read it and review it, Mmkay? I _know _its the same basic theme: Winry as a POW and all, but think of that one as FMAB and this one as the original FMA without a sequel and a better ending xD The new story is definately more action/adventure than this one...I also included a criminal that'll make your skin crawl. I hate him, too, and I _created _him!

Review!

_Scarlett._


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